Team Atlantis: Shards of Chaos
by Rebmakash
Summary: Chaos comes from a good-natured attempt at order, leaving Milo, Kida, and the rest of the team in a perilous struggle to save Atlantis from itself. Inspired by the title to the original sequel, which I take no credit for. (Possible title change later.)
1. CHAPTER 1: Shards of Chaos

Author's Note:  
  
This is the last story in the trilogy, and, unlike the previous two stories, does NOT stand up on its own as well. I highly urge you, if you have not already, to read "The Dark Continent's Enigma," at least. Things hinted at in that story manifest themselves in this one, and simply reading this may seem as if I'm recklessly throwing you into an underdeveloped story. Also unlike the previous two stories, this has a slightly different style, no longer following a single character, and no longer waiting a few chapters to come into conflict.  
  
If you're reading this right now, guess what? You're a guinea pig, whether you respond or not. This story has been an experiment since early stages in an attempt to differentiate between two story-telling media. Exactly what I'm testing for I can't say, yet, but that's where I ask for your help. I know I often ask you to tell me if you find plot holes, imagery errors, and typos, but that isn't so important this time, due to this little test. What I need from you is to tell me how you felt while reading it, if you have the time to do so. Happy? Sad? Mad? At a character, occurrence, or at me? Bored? Confused? Does anything rip you out of the story? Can you get into it at all? I need you to be frank. If the story just doesn't provoke an emotion, I need to know. That affects the final outcome of the experiment, and how I'll present the next chapters, probably. I warn you, I pull a few nasty stunts, so whether you comment or not, be wary. As stated, this is my darkest story. (Whether that means it's really dark or not is up to you.)  
  
In case you're interested, if there were a soundtrack to this, it would be "Waterworld." Just because the tone seems similar from this end of the pencil, and I wrote to it mostly.  
  
I'm pretty sure I butchered the Swahili. All I had to go with was the lyrics of Lebo M.'s "Rhythms of the Pridelands."  
  
???????????????????TL?NTIS:  
  
SH?RDS OF CH?OS  
  
  
  
In a world where chaos was nearing the throne, in a world where life was being shortened, in a world where sorrow and fear were becoming a plague, there was Atlantis.  
  
CH?PTER 1: Shards of Chaos  
  
The city seemed deathly still, as if waiting to even take a breath, for fear the movement might bring forth its own demise. The sanguine fireball was being eclipsed by those it protected, slowly silencing its freedom. The glow was dying away, forcing the molten inferno below that surrounded the city to be the only light source.  
  
Khobdesheh watched from the plaza, dark brows furrowed. Before him was a small, pyramid-shaped structure that stood perhaps three feet tall. Over the four exposed faces where the glyphs of the Atlantean language combined with the intricate spiral circuitry of the culture's technology. Both pattern and inscription glowed a sad, pale blue. A man stood at one corner, tinkering with it, when a shot of energy lashed out, striking his arm. The man yelped in pain, cradling his injured limb.  
  
"Are you all right? Watch what you are doing! We do not need any more casualties!" Khob went to him and examined the wound.  
  
The man nodded, removing his own crystal to heal it.  
  
"How much longer until you are ready? Milo and Kida are not patient rulers."  
  
"I know. I am almost finished. All that is left for me is to connect two symbols. If I am correct, Sanklah should almost be ready as well."  
  
Khob looked upward, seeing a man on an Aktirak lower the last panel into place to connect with the crystal's casing. "Let us pray this works."  
  
"Yes, but. What if it does not?"  
  
"Then we shall have the wrath of Queen Kidagakash wrought upon us! We must not fail. We should thank the Spirits Milo is not yet fully equipped in the powers of king, or else we should pray for death if we do not succeed!"  
  
. . .  
  
Something did not seem right.  
  
Milo could not decide what it was, but something felt wrong. He pushed with all his might on the last rock, steadying it at the top of the pile of boulders. The scholar puffed for a few seconds, wiping his brow with a furred arm protector. Walking to a corner of the cave ledge, he looked over. Sure enough, the rope had just been put into place by a fellow hunter.  
  
"Are you finished, Milo?"  
  
The scholar turned his head to look down at his wife. "Sure am!" he called. Milo watched as she paced toward the underside of the trap, inspecting it to see if there were any flaws. He saw her motion to the rest of the hunting party to step back, in case it activated. The queen stood in the "bait area," a section where the rocks would not fall when the rope was pulled. From there a charokh could be pummeled while the person in question would remain safe from the controlled avalanche. To be sure the trap would not go off prematurely, Kida butted the ledge's underside with the bludgeon on her spear. Milo looked on as she smiled, contented with the construction.  
  
"Well done!" she called to all as she stepped out, walking to the main group. "Ahkir? Go with Bendoh and Thlar. Lead a charokh here. To all else here, take positions on the ledges and on-"  
  
In a place where ambush seemed impossible a charokh appeared, lunging for the hunters, who scattered. Milo could only look on in fear as Kida bounded for the "bait area." With an abrupt turn the massive insectoid pounced at her, claws flailing in search of its victim. To the linguist's utter horror he saw the beast snag the rope before Kida reached safety. First obscured by the mighty bulk of the charokh, Milo's view was lost by the avalanche of boulders.  
  
"NO! KIDAAAA!!!" Unthinkingly Milo jumped from the ledge, landing painfully hard. He did not care. Clenching his teeth he picked himself up as fast as he could and ran with a limp to the mountain of rocks. Protruding from the back was the unmoving carcass of the charokh. "KIDAAAA!!!" With all the strength he could muster he tried to move the boulders, managing some success. "HELP ME!" he cried, but the hunters were already heading toward him to do so. After a few seconds he found a bit of pure white hair peeking out. "KIDAAA!!!" The king moved away some remaining debris and turned her over to see her face.  
  
. . .  
  
The man finally chiseled away the remaining rock on the pyramid, connecting the symbols with a long, perfectly cut crystal rod. Both the advisor and the worker stepped back as it began to hum powerfully. They turned their eyes to the sky as the panel finally connected with the case.  
  
A bright flash enveloped the city. Khobdesheh heard a cry and, when his eyes finally adjusted, saw an Aktirak hurtling toward the ground, driver unmoving.  
  
. . .  
  
Upon seeing her features, Milo felt himself rush upward at a dizzying speed. He looked around in confusion to find himself someplace else. "Where's Kida?!" his mind cried. The scholar searched desperately, breathing hard, to find her on the other side of the bed he was on. He examined her face first. An innocent, peaceful smile caressed her lips, he noted. Her visage was intact. Still unsatisfied, he looked to her side. Through the wrinkles of her long nightgown it rose and fell slowly at first, but the rhythm changed as she began to stir.  
  
"Another, Milo?" she mumbled.  
  
"Yeah. another one." He ran a hand over his face and hair, only to find them soaked with a cold sweat. The erudite man wiped his hand on his pajamas and looked back to his wife, eternally thankful she was fine. Kida still lay curled up tightly away from him, like she always did. He still thought it strange she did that, even in this heat. To his amazement, however, he found her asleep again. This sort of occurrence had always awakened her completely.  
  
He looked down at his lap, seeing the Shepherd's Journal lying open. Milo had fallen asleep reading again, though this time he had been reading it to Kida. This explained the pile of pillows behind him. The scholar wondered whether it was him or his wife who had fallen asleep first.  
  
Milo realized just how hot his feet were, and habitually pulled the covers slightly to try and cool them. When nothing happened, he looked to his feet, seeing Fluffy had taken her once usual spot back. Her little face was lit from beneath by her new crystal collar tag. It had been nice to have her come on this trip. Slowly he lifted her off his feet, the cat shifting. Milo put his fingers to his lips, as if it would quiet the animal. She yawned and curled up in a new spot next to his wife.  
  
Only just then did he notice the gentle swaying motion beneath him and remember they were still on the ship. "We must be near the equator, now," he thought. He glanced to the porthole, noticing the glow of morning. "There is no chance I'm getting any more sleep." With the utmost care he slowly got out of bed, so as not to disturb his wife, and he picked up his clothes to head to the bathroom. There he did not need to worry about being quiet. As soon as he did so, he passed back by the room to deposit his pajamas, hoping Kida wouldn't mind that he left them in a pile next to the door. He looked in simply to reassure himself Kida was still there.  
  
The sun had not yet risen, but a flourish of bright colors announced its coming. Milo sighed heavily, walking to the side of the ship to lean on the railing. He was exhausted, but not sleepy. He watched the swells off the ocean, already gleaming red, buffet the ship's hull. The scholar was thankful he had gotten sea legs, remembering many an unpleasant time at the railings of the ship for the first few months.  
  
Milo inhaled deeply. The salty air of the ocean was somehow comforting. The churning waters seemed to whisper something urgent, but even to the linguist it was gibberish. He ran his hand over his face, trying to energize himself.  
  
Somehow the fiery winds managed not to scorch the notes of a distant song. He listened closely, noting a deep, feminine voice.  
  
"Ixesha lifikele (the time has come)  
  
Busa lelizwe (Rule this land)  
  
Lefatshe la bomata rona (This land of our ancestors)  
  
Ubokhosi bo khokho (Throne of the ancestors)  
  
Fatshe leso lea haklea (The land of our ancestors is holy)"  
  
"Swahili," Milo thought aloud. "Must be that African sailor."  
  
"Fatshe leso. (Our land.)  
  
Fatshe leso. (Our land.)  
  
Uli buse le lelizwe (You must rule this land)  
  
U'zuli qondise (Keep it in order)  
  
Ulibuse kahle (Rule it with care)  
  
Ubuse ngo thando (You must rule with love)  
  
Ubuise ngo xolo (Rule with peace)  
  
Liqhakazise baba (Brighten our future)  
  
Vusa amdolozi bo (Wake the Spirits up)  
  
Sikhokhelebo (Lead us)"  
  
The bookish man stood up, looking to the source of the song, a place obscured by a cabin. "Is that a normal folk song?" He began to listen closer.  
  
"Ninga dinwa (Do not get weary)  
  
Ninga phelewa nga manda (Do not loose your strength)  
  
Uzo libusa (You will rule)  
  
Izwe Lethu (The land of our people)"  
  
Milo paused for a mere moment, cocking an ear.  
  
"Shwele baba (Hail to you, Father)  
  
Ndi ya ku khumbula mna (I miss you)  
  
Siyakubongela (We are grateful to you)  
  
We baba ngivelelwe (Oh, my Father, I am in pain)  
  
Ndi ya ku khalela mna (I cry for you)  
  
.La la kahkle. (.Farewell.)  
  
With a curious, suspecting smile, the king walked forward to the singer's direction when the music stopped but for a few seconds.  
  
"Teeg! (Yes! [I hear it!])  
  
LAH-nekh THREH-tem, SHEH loh (Hear the hum, of it)  
  
Shoo SHEH-kahk TOO-leh-noak, KAH loh (The thrum of our hearts, to it)  
  
PAH-lokh SHEKH-luhp tahn, soh-loh (Every breath that we take, with it)  
  
MAH-tihm-noak. (Our mother.)"  
  
Being so familiar with the language, his mind automatically translated the song without heeding the tongue being chanted at first. Just short of reaching the corner where he would see the singer, Milo realized what it was, and grinned in delight. It was Atlantean.  
  
In direct contrast to his dream his wife stood, full of life and backlit as she sang to the rising sun. The light of dawn made her white hair glow gold and ruby red. From her movements he could tell Kida fully absorbed in her chant, arms and head moving gracefully to their respective melodies, the shoulders rising and fists closing with power and volume.  
  
"BAY-nen soh-kuhr-HUAH-nah. (Come with the first [great] king.)  
  
BAY-nen EH-strah NEE-tuhg. (Come as a blazing star.)  
  
GEH-dee-lihn-moak toog. (The great purity.)  
  
MEH-kahn-rihk SOO-shem-tah-kohn (The benevolent power.)  
  
Milo leaned against the wall as he listened, a dreamy look appearing on his face as he took in the moment. Never before had he seen her do this. To him, it was one of the wonders of the world.  
  
"Lulp-SHEN-toak krihp. (Its secret life.)  
  
Loh GAH-lokh NOHS gihm kahk-noak SHEH loh! (It gives to us and our hearts to it!)  
  
"Kahk AHD-lihn-tih-suhg. (The Heart of Atlantis.)" On those graceful notes she ended, leaning on the railing to watch the sunrise.  
  
The husband shook his head, almost disbelieving, and began to walk to her. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Kida, you--"  
  
The warrior gasped, whirling around to take a pose he had only seen her use during the hunt. The snarl on her face quickly melted away when she saw who it was. Kida sighed in relief. "Milo, you." Her expression slowly turned to one of impressed revelation. ".Surprised me."  
  
"I. I guess I did."  
  
"You have never surprised me before."  
  
"Well, not in that sense."  
  
Yes. Your skills have improved much, it seems. You will be a good hunter yet."  
  
"Sorry about that. Surprising you, I mean."  
  
"It is not a bad incident. Be not worried." The queen stepped forward, slowly running a slender hand up over the muscles of his upper arm and humming a pleased note. Her gentle touch made his spine tingle. "You have improved," she added quietly.  
  
Milo smiled, and then wrapped his arms around her. "Kida, your singing. It was beautiful! Why haven't I heard you sing before?"  
  
"You do know what I was singing was a hymn, do you not? I enjoyed it, but it was for the Heart."  
  
"Yes, but getting back to the question, why haven't I heard you sing before?"  
  
"The times were not right. Either you were busy, or you were not around, as during prayer. Or," she added, "we were preoccupied by WEH-dihn- tem."  
  
"Well, could you please make sure I'm around? Whether it's for a prayer, or just for joy, I want to hear it."  
  
Kida hummed a laugh. "Very well. Had I known I would have sung simply for you."  
  
As far as I'm concerned," he king began, holding her close, "you just did."  
  
After a moment, she moved back, simply to smile to him. Milo turned her around so they could see the sunrise together, but still he kept his arms around her.  
  
After what seemed to be a hesitation for thought, the huntress spoke. "You had another disturbing dream."  
  
"Yeah. I thought you actually slept through it."  
  
"No, but I do not believe I was aware for long."  
  
"Neither do I."  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
The linguist paused, not wanting to frighten her or lead her to believe, with these nightmares with the same outcome, that he wanted her dead.  
  
"Milo, what is it you told me? If you need to talk, it will not bother me." She looked back at her husband with a raised brow.  
  
"Well, I dreamt we were setting a charokh trap, and one attacked too early. The trap caught you, too."  
  
"My king, have you not been having a nightmare for each of the past three nights where you fear for my life? Do not worry about me so much. I will be fine."  
  
"It's just. I can't stand losing you."  
  
"Nor could I survive losing you. But do not dwell on the thought." Kida reached back to touch his cheek. "At least this dream makes more sense than the last. What was it? Little. demons you called them. threatening to imprison me in a box and kill me with. Sticks or switches?"  
  
"Switches." He laughed weakly. "It was pretty silly, wasn't it?" Milo felt her pull his arms around her neck and she clasped his hands. "You seemed to be having good dreams."  
  
"Yes! I had a delightful one."  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"I dreamt we had beautiful wings, and we soared in the heavens together." Milo cringed, but luckily, because she faced away from him, she did not notice. "It will be nice to be home again," she stated after a moment.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Slowly they swayed as if wanting to dance. The world seemed like a perfect place, peace covering it like a gentle mist.  
  
Kida's hand moved, slightly, and the scholar noted she was squeezing his. She looked back at him in delight and pointed to sleek shapes shining a silver-red in the light as they shot from the water's surface, seemingly to some breathtaking rhythm.  
  
"That's what a dolphin looks like." Though there was no need to whisper, the king did so, anyway. He felt his wife break from him to rest her arms on the railing, getting a better look. Milo leaned beside her, taking joy in hers. The dolphins seemed to be as much a part of the water as the spouses were a part of each other.  
  
. . .  
  
"Sonklah!!! No!" Khob heard the man beside him cry. The sleek vehicle exploded in a burst of yellow and blue. "NO! Sonklah.!"  
  
Khobdesheh put his hand on the man's shoulder as he fell to his knees in emotional anguish. "I am sorry, Protar. I know you were close. He must have been a wonderful brother. Remember, he died making Atlantis a better place, ensuring it would be there when his children are grown and when his grandchildren become elders." He looked to the sky, brushing the ash-white hair from his face.  
  
The crystal, imprisoned in its many-sided prison of glowing runes, began to float downward, the king stones hanging in place. The great case perched upon the pyramid's tip, a seemingly precarious thing to do. Khob approached an irregular side, different in that it had a tube of sorts protruding from it.  
  
"This is the time. It has finally come." he thought in silent wonder. "Atlantis will be stable if I do this. I have read the ancient texts dozens of times. What holds me back?" His mind paused. "A fear of the unknown." The advisor clenched his fists. "It does not matter. I must ensure our future!" Slowly he reached out his hand, gingerly putting his fingers in the tube. "With their journeys nearing a temporary completion, they have been gone longer. Thank the spirits for that." were his last thoughts before thrusting his hand fully in, sliding fingers into the three slots. With all his might he yanked the mechanism out.  
  
Khobdesheh only had an instant to admire the gauntlet he retrieved before the world was enveloped in an eruption of yellow light. Pain sucked the air from his lungs as he was thrown through the burning air. A stone pillar in his path only increased the pain as the world was enveloped in night and nightmare.  
  
. . .  
  
  
  
The wave of yellow energy blasted through the caves, momentarily stunning animals. Like some salamander it moved a fiery light through the lava tubes, washing over shards of crystal imbedded in the igneous rock. So the shock passed, seemingly without effect.  
  
A single crystal, marred with a blazing red impurity, began to vibrate, the rock around it crumbling as it shook. Upon winning its freedom it shot forward, moving to the center of the old volcano shaft. A chattering, clinking noise began to echo through the caves as tiny fragments of crystal began to work their way out of the long-hardened lava and rush to meet with the first. The growing pile began to assemble itself, orchestrating an eerie music. Slowly a form began to piece together, arm stubs putting handless nubs on the side of a broken head, waiting for completion. A screaming buzz began to fill the chambers as it formed, and it fell to its knees in immense pain. Images were scorching into its brain.  
  
. . .  
  
The wind, for an instant, seemed to blow hotter and harder. A strange, slightly dizzying sensation swept over Milo, and he grabbed the rail to steady himself. He coughed forcefully, feeling as if something had lodged in his lungs for an instant. "I'm okay," he reassured Kida, coughing again. The king placed his hand on hers. "I'm okay."  
  
Milo felt her hand quiver under his. He lifted his up to see her hand clutching the rail as if holding on for dear life, her knuckles deathly white. The queen was shaking. "Kida?" he looked to her face.  
  
She was pale. Her glazed eyes were flickering shut. Milo saw her falter as she began to gasp.  
  
"Kida! KIDA!" The scholar caught her and laid her down gently. "Kida, c'mon, Kida!" Her eyes shut entirely. "Help! Sweet! Anyone! HELP! KIDAAA!!!"  
  
. . .  
  
  
  
It was quiet, peaceful and dark. There was no worry to burden him, just a tranquil stillness.  
  
There was a great upheaval as a pain in his shoulder shocked his frame. It felt like it was being crushed. He felt hands firmly gripping it, hands causing the pain. Rourke opened his eyes and grabbed for them immediately. No one would get the best of him today.  
  
"Rourke! Ow! Rourke! It's me!"  
  
"What? Holy cats! Sorry, Doc."  
  
"'Ya had me scared, there, for a moment. Permission ta finish treatin' 'ya now, sir?"  
  
"Yeah. Go ahead." Rourke looked to the side to see another man unconscious in the grass beside him. He had already been bandaged. The future commander grimaced as his shoulder was cracked.  
  
"Better?"  
  
Rourke began to move his shoulder, but a searing pain spirited through it. Instinctively, he looked to it, unsatisfied. Over his shoulder was heavy gauze and bandaging. "No. What happened back there?" he ordered for an answer.  
  
"You were shot in the shoulder. Then in the haste someone barreled inta 'ya. Sergeant Bernard, maybe. One of the bigger guys. You were sent down the hill the hard way. I have no clue how 'ya landed, but you managed to dislocate your shoulder pretty bad, too."  
  
"Must have been Bernard," Rourke silently mused. "No one else could take me down like that." The man shifted painfully. "So, how bad is it, Doc?"  
  
"You or the casualties?"  
  
"Both, but I meant the casualties."  
  
"You'll recover. Just get your rest. The battle. Not good, I'm afraid. We won, but we lost a lot of men."  
  
The captain sighed sadly. "What about Jonathan? Did he make it?"  
  
"I'm sorry, sir." The physician solemnly looked to a distant body. "You literally just missed him by a couple of minutes."  
  
"Aw, no." He shook his head. Rourke was silent for a few minutes as he recalled his friend. They had often talked and joked, even as teenagers, how they would retire and live off the pay from it. Now he was gone.  
  
. . .  
  
Another memory surged agonizingly through Rourke's mind.  
  
. . .  
  
It was only a year later. He had just come home, tired from his first week of combat instructing. Rourke comfortably sat at the kitchen table, setting down a stack of letters. Relaxedly he opened a letter he noted was from the army, expecting the first of his retirement pay. Instead was a letter explaining his pay would be permanently docked, for reasons that could not be disclosed due to involvement with higher-ranking individuals. "The money I so rightfully deserve for all my years of service!" he growled. "They won't even tell me why I'm not getting it!" He had a suspicion it had to do with the censures from so long ago.  
  
. . .  
  
The memories sped through faster now. The most prominent was as clear as if it had just passed, though, for him, it had.  
  
Though he wasn't getting the money from his military, necessarily, he would surely receive money from a military, surely. The opportunity had presented itself only a few years ago with the discovery of that page in the Journal. That crystal would steer him back on course to his dream. "This thing is gonna make us all rich, and if Thatch is right, there would be a lot of buyers for a power source like that," he thought. "It's about time I won. I've deserved this for years!"  
  
He let his hands slide off the pod as it rose, seeing a bizarre sight. People on flying stone statues were speeding toward them.  
  
"We've got company!" he yelled.  
  
The battle burst through his mind with the same force of the fiery volcano. He remembered how Helga had turned on him, though that was to be expected. "Then there was Thatch. He wasn't a fighter. His obvious, weak punches were easy to catch. That piece of glass. Somehow he changed me, turned me into this!"  
  
In his rage he released his head, slamming crystalline fists on the ground. A spray of crystal fragments rose as the rock crystallized and shattered immediately.  
  
"What am I?! Will this pain ever stop?!" His voice buzzed as he stared at his hands, glowing blue with flaming red impurities coursing through. He painfully flexed his fingers, watching the red glow seeping from the cracks scorch the rocks around it in the light.  
  
A grin slowly crossed his face as he noticed the crystallized stone. "What.am I?" He began to muse aloud. "I was trying to steal the crystal. I AM the crystal!" Tactical applications began to appear to him. How much would a country pay to have a fighter like this?" The ex-commander looked upward, seeing a tiny light still at the top of the shaft. "I'm not going to be able to climb out." He laid a hand on the volcano wall as he stood. "Hmmm. For that matter. where's most of the ash?" The cave walls and floor seemed unusually smooth. "Could the volcano have erupted?" He put his fingers together thoughtfully. "The Gyro-Evac! That would've been a heckavah blow. That could set it off." Rourke looked to a tunnel. "In that case, the city's finally dead." That still did not answer why he was alive, what he could do, or how to escape. "If I could find the remains of Atlantis, maybe I could find one of those statues and get a straight shot out of here. And maybe some remedy for this pain!" he added head still throbbing.  
  
The light of his own body, dancing like flame, guided him onward down the lava tube.  
  
. . .  
  
The world did not seem to exist in image or sound, but only in pain. Khobdesheh re-awakened to it with an agonized shout. He felt as if the flesh of his right arm was being devoured by some ravenous fire. He looked to it, seeing only normal skin and the stone shell of the claw-like gauntlet, the designs burning red upon it. He clutched at his claws, hoping the feeling of the pressure might numb the pain. Tears ran down his cheeks as he tried to stand. He looked up to see all those around him also picking themselves off of the ground as if they had been knocked unconscious by some incredible blow. Scattered across the city were fallen King Stones. A hot new wind now blew, carrying the sound of an occasional cough, to which he would sometimes join with his own. He looked at his claws again, the gauntlet lit not only by its own patterns, but also by another, eerie light source. Something was not right. In a hurry, Khobdesheh looked downward.  
  
Khobdesheh's crystal appeared a ghostly white. Quickly he looked to those around him, whose crystals blazed red, their owners gawking at them.  
  
Khob held up the gauntlet, his arm shaking slightly from trying to withstand the pain. He had known what it could do, but he had not anticipated the machine would obey so quickly. Even now, he noted, his crystal was beginning to glow with more intensity while the others dimmed. He also noticed the fallen King Stones.  
  
Khobdesheh looked to his hand, now armored in stone. The advisor needed to know.  
  
With great effort he raised the claws above his head, trying to ignore the need to press it to his side. He looked to the Crystal case and saw it rise with his command, just as the old writings had said.  
  
Through the look of agony on Khobdesheh's sharp-featured face slowly emerged a pleased smile.  
  
. . .  
  
Milo grabbed for his crystal, not having any idea as to how to heal her with no apparent wound. He held her up slightly, propping up her body with his.  
  
"Milo! What's wrong?!" Sweet was the first on the deck, still in his long johns. When he stopped, he reeled slightly, as if he, too, had a dizzy spell.  
  
"She's not breathing!!! Out of nowhere--!"  
  
A sharp inhalation and spasm went through Kida's frame. Violent coughs racked her as she curled up on her side instinctively. Her breathing was convulsive.  
  
"Kida! Oh, Kida!" Milo put his arms over her. The queen was cold to the touch.  
  
The woman's words came in gasps. "My---loh. Crih--! Crih--! Crystal!" She was looking at what he clutched and held up her own. Both smoldered crimson. Kida continued to cough.  
  
"Jiminy Christmas! Sweet?"  
  
"I'm on it!" He knelt as the scholar moved out of the way, checking her heart and examining her clammy face.  
  
"I will be fine," Kida wheezed.  
  
"All the same, Miss, you're gettin' a checkup."  
  
Others arrived on deck. "What's the matter?!" cried Audrey.  
  
To Milo's horror, he looked from Sweet to the others, noting the condition of their crystals. Each blazed like his own. "Either the crystals have side effects if we're away for too long or something's wrong with the Heart of Atlantis! Tell the captain we gotta hurry! We have to get back to Atlantis now!"  
  
  
  
  
  
Based off the Disney Picture "Atlantis: the Lost Empire." The Name "Shards of Chaos" is property of Disney. The characters, "MUH-suh MIH-kee" and Khohbdesheh are my property, and I acknowledge I do not own the names. Fan fiction storyline also my property. Milo Thatch, Kidagakash, Bendoh, Rourke and other characters, names, concepts, and all Atlantean in this story are property of the Walt Disney Company. 


	2. CHAPTER 2: Home Unknown

CHAPTER 2: Home Unknown  
  
Rourke shook his head violently. No matter what he did it seemed he could not stop the humming in his ears. It was bad enough that a clinking sound went through him with each step. It all felt so strange to him. No longer did he feel the need to fill his lungs with air. He was not even sure if he had lungs anymore. Still a constant pain flowed through is crystalline muscles. It was always a new and unyielding burn, and he found he would have to cope.  
  
It had not been long until he reached an area where, as he had not expected, he no longer needed to be guided fully by the light of his own body. He paced forward to the light, only to behold a grand spectacle as he neared the cave mouth.  
  
Atlantis still lived, the waterfalls reflecting crimson in the night from the lava and the water sanguine in the dull red light of a strange casing hovering above the city. Somewhere in the distance a stone statue flew.  
  
Closer to him was the greatest proof it had survived. He spied a cloaked woman placing her hand on a panel of some sort of vehicle and activating it.  
  
"If the crystal is--"  
  
"Leb yoos EH-seh-nik duhp?!" He heard the woman's voice and ducked out of sight as she turned. He had little idea what she had said in her native tongue, but he could guess.  
  
"One of those warriors, no doubt," Rourke mused. He heard footsteps, slow and quiet as they were even upon the rare clumps of grass, come right for him. "She's not searching, she's sneaking up! But how." With that the ex-commander realized the howling was not in his ears, but was actually coming from him. The woman could hear him. He glanced around in a hurry, instinctively looking for anything he could use as a weapon. To his left was a stalagmite, it's base worn slightly by water. "Maybe if I tug hard enough." Rourke grabbed for it, only to find himself noisily fall backward when the stone came loose with no effort. The sound of movement had stopped for but a moment, giving Rourke time to simply look at what he had done and smile.  
  
"SHAHD-lu-coh-nen." Her words were answered by Rourke as he tried to slam her with his new club. The woman was faster than he was, however, and managed to avoid his swing.  
  
She crashed down on his shoulder with the bludgeon on her weapon, and Rourke could hear himself crack. To his actual surprise, the pain was not as great as it should have been compounded with his existing hurt. The attack had brought her within range again, and he pummeled her, sending the woman through the air like some unwanted toy. After she hit the great shell by the entrance, Rourke went over to investigate. The woman was simply unconscious, and it was clear her breathing was labored.  
  
"Where was I?" he finally buzzed aloud. "Ah, yes." Rourke hoisted her up, a featherweight to him now, and looked her over. It was obvious the armor under the cloak had benefited her little just now. "How considerate of you." The ex-commander removed the cloak in a realization that if the Crystal was still there, he would somehow need to sneak into the city. He simply discarded the woman, folding the cloak over his arm as he went to a glowing shard on the ground, a piece of himself that had broken off. Rourke obtained and examined it. "And me without the glue," he commented in a hum. The man toyed with it. The crystal form, like someone fiddling with the pieces of a broken vase, fit the shard back into his shoulder a few times to discover, on the last fitting, it stuck, melding almost seamlessly with his faceted body. Sparking eyes grew a bit wider but for an instant in mild disbelief before the smile again broke on his face. "Hmmm. Seems I've been dealt a good hand."  
  
The crystal man donned the cloak, only to find it still did not cover his boots, nor hide his gleaming face. Glancing around he noticed a puddle from a recent rain, and with it, mud. Like camouflage he applied it, smearing it over all exposed parts, taking care not to get it into his eyes. Thus did he dim himself.  
  
Rourke then set sights back toward the city, noticing the Ketak still there, whirring melodiously. "Thank you kindly, Miss. You left the car running for me." He stepped over to it and mounted. The pendant was still in the slot. Experimentally Rourke copied the woman's previous actions and placed his hand on the glowing red panel. He raised a crystalline brow s it began to move as if by thoughts. Being so easy to operate, he directed it to fly to the outskirts of the city.  
  
. . .  
  
In the dead of night Rourke found it easy to slip into the palace. Either the people felt there was no need for guards, he had been lucky enough to catch them at the end of a shift, or they were incredibly daft, Rourke had thought. If anyone knew about the Crystal or what he had been turned into, it would be "Ol' King Cole," he had decided. Perhaps the crystal could still be moved.  
  
In the throne room before him lay a strange scene. Two men spoke in pleading voices. One sat on the throne, clutching his arm while the other continued to spew forth words in gibberish. Despite their tongues, Rourke could tell the standing man was desperate just by the tone of his voice.  
  
. . .  
  
"Uhd DAH-thoo-noh-suhg EH-seh-nik, kwalm MOH-sheh-noh-suhg EH-seh-nik. (But I am a dancer, not a hunter!)"  
  
"SOH-kahm KAH-behr-seh-ken luht MAH-kihj-tuhg gihm SEH-kihj-tuhg moakh MAH-kah-toat. MOH-sheh-noh-suhg SHOO-dihn EH-seh-nen. (You must be assigned to where the king and queen need you. You are a skilled hunter.)"  
  
"Tehb LAH-shuht EH-seh-nem. GAH-leh-nuhg-tem KAH-gihn whit ah-BIH- lehd EH-seh-toat. (Once I was. My skills are now unpracticed.)"  
  
"SOH-lesh MAH-toh-toat. RIH-shen SHOH-tihn GIHB-soh-lahb EH-seh- noat puhk SOH-lesh leb BIH-lehd MAH-kah-toat.(All is well. A training course is tomorrow for all those who need the practice.)"  
  
"Uhd.! (But.!)"  
  
"Puhk TEE-suht MOH-kihn GEHP-doo-sihk KAH-too-nen. Luhg-DAH-thoo-noh- nen. (I suggest, for you safety, you do not continue. Dance in leisure.)"  
  
. . .  
  
Rourke analyzed the situation. "Who is this guy? He parades around as if he were the king. Still. He talks like an old colonel I used to know, just from his tone. Whoever he is, he's probably important. Perhaps the King finally kicked the bucket."  
  
The ex-commander carefully sneaked around, clinging to the walls. He froze when the conversation suddenly stopped, and he wondered if he had been heard.  
  
. . .  
  
"Lahd NIHG-leh-bihn EH-seh-toat duhp? Shoam TREE-lehb-nen doo? (What is that sound? Do you hear it?)"  
  
. . .  
  
They paused. "They must be hearing me," Rourke mentally chided himself. It seemed he had, after all, been dealt a foul move in this chess game.  
  
. . .  
  
The man clutching his arm finally spoke in his meaningless language. "Shoam KHOH-beh-ten KRAH-shuhn-tah THREH-ten. (It must be the Crystal humming.)"  
  
. . .  
  
To Rourke's luck, the conversation continued. With great effort he made his way behind the throne, itself.  
  
. . .  
  
"Goam moakh shoam KREEN-tohl EH-seh-toat doo, khoab-DEH-sheh-toap? (Is it louder to you, Khobdesheh?)"  
  
. . .  
  
Rourke pounced over the throne, balancing on his stomach momentarily to wrap his arm around the pained man's neck and pulling him up so he could stand on his crystalline feet again.  
  
"Koog kahk!" the man chocked in nonsense speech.  
  
"You!" the other exclaimed now in English before turning to run.  
  
Rourke screeched angrily, grabbing hold of part of the throne. "I wouldn't do that if I were you! Unless you don't want to see this man alive again!" A cracking, crumbling sound turned his head. Rourke found in his anger he had managed to crystallize a part of the throne. "Or if you want a crystal statue." His words were only partly a bluff, as he now had an idea as to how to execute it.  
  
The other man halted, slowly pivoting back.  
  
"That's better." Rourke now addressed the man he held. "Now son, how about it? You're gonna tell me where the king is."  
  
"Milo is not here!"  
  
"So he did survive," Rourke mused before buzzing, "I didn't ask about Thatch. Where's the king?"  
  
"Milo is the king!"You killed Kashekim!"  
  
"Hmmm. Sweet was right. That wasn't a part of the plan. And how did Milo get to be king?" Rourke shrugged mentally, though he wanted to know the latter very much, though other things were put higher in his priorities. He then crackled, "Fine. In that case, why am I alive, what can I do, and where's the crystal?"  
  
"I do not know!" he sputtered.  
  
"Is that thing hovering above the city it?"  
  
The man was silent for a moment. "You will meet your doom!"  
  
"Yeah? Well, that's a funny thing. I've been told that one before. Your silence was 'yes' enough, thanks."  
  
The man roared angrily in Atlantean. "Thrih-KAHR-bihn! (Abomination!)"  
  
"Hmmm. Well, we don't need a linguist for that, do we? Now, tell me or I'll show you!"  
  
The pained man seemed to think for a moment, making Rourke question whether or not he was coming up with some ploy. "I control the Crystal. I could command it to destroy you!"  
  
Rourke was unconvinced. "From what I saw, nothing controlled it. Nice bluff, but no prize!" The ex-commander squeezed a little harder.  
  
The hostage choked out his words. "I can prove it! I will brighten it!" He lifted what appeared to Rourke as a strange, three-fingered glove or gauntlet, and flexed it. His head lowered as he groaned in pain. As promised the crystal's light upon the city brightened until he relaxed, the man now gasping for breath as he was strangled.  
  
Rourke loosened his grip slightly, the man now breathing easier. "He may not be bluffing," he thought. Aloud he buzzed, "Either way, I'm a good fighter and stronger than I used to be. I could take you and your friend here as fast as you could me. Seems we're in a bit of a stalemate, aren't we?"  
  
The hostage looked to the other. "It seems so."  
  
"Well then," Rourke chimed, "we each have things we want, or so I gather from the way the two of you were going on." He paused in thought. "I need information. I need to know why I'm even speaking to you right now, or, more importantly, what I've become." The crystal entity chose his words carefully. "I need to know for. the sake of knowledge. You have the answers, or someone here does. Tell you what. You get the information for me and I'll do something for you."  
  
"You wish to harm our people! I will make no such deal with you!"  
  
"No, I don't want to hurt you." This was true, for he wanted the Crystal, not caring one way or another if he hurt others. Rourke quickly used the misperception to his advantage. "I. I am enlightened you could say."  
  
"Why then did you desire the location of the Heart of Atlantis?"  
  
Rourke answered quickly out of necessity. "Well, if the crystal is still around, it might help me answer my other questions." He motioned to his own crystalline body as he finally released the man to approach the nervous other. Looking back he added, "Now, what do you want?"  
  
"What I want is the safety of Atlantis as a whole. I have begun plans, but I cannot disclose them to others."  
  
"Fine, we'll do it your way." Dissatisfied with the direction this was going and feeling he wasn't getting anywhere, Rourke discarded any shred of diplomacy. Motioning to the bystander, he whirred, "He's heard too much." With that he punched him so hard in the stomach the hunter dancer fell unconscious immediately.  
  
"Thrih-KAHR-bihn! Heal him! Save him now!"  
  
"'Heal' him?"  
  
"Now! Or I will. I will destroy you!" he bellowed, seeming to forget he had such power, Rourke noted mentally. "Someone generally doesn't forget things like that. But I can't risk anything yet." "You are a crystal! Heal him!" he heard the clawed man yell.  
  
Angrily Rourke moved toward the fallen person. "How?!"  
  
"Try putting your hand on the wound and concentrate. Want to heal him. Your energy will do so!"  
  
The crystal form tried, realizing to strike any deal he needed to do it. Despite the effort, there was no change. "I can't!" he roared like flame.  
  
"Then use his! Around his neck!"  
  
Rourke did so, not thrilled to be taking orders from someone inferior. After several attempts, the man gasped for air, healed but still unconscious. "Well, he still won't be a witness." He looked back at the sitting man. There he hunched painfully concentrating as the crystal flashed. He looked to Rourke, a hopeful look blasted away to one of alarm. "What were you trying to pull?"  
  
"I. It is. It is difficult to control the Crystal!"  
  
The ex-commander could see through the lie. "You were trying to kill me. Now that's not a nice thing to do to someone who's trying to make you a deal. Seriously, what were you going to tell me?" At this point, Rourke felt more at ease, sincerely doubting the gloved man could do anything to him. "Still," he mused, "if he thinks I believe that, he'd think he had a handle on me. He wouldn't be afraid to share information so much. Then he can lead me to what I need."  
  
".Atlantis needs stability. I need someone to help ensure things are taken care of. Let me explain how I did this." he said as he lifted his pincers in to view.  
  
. . .  
  
  
  
"Can't this thing go any faster?" The man's tone dripped with anxiety.  
  
"Milo, she eez goeeng as fast as she can. We are almost there."  
  
"I know, but the sooner, the better. We've got to figure out what's going on." He looked to Kida, undisturbed by the Digger 2's rough ride. She lay peacefully propped against him, still exhausted from the shock her body had received about a day and a half ago. Despite the fact this was only the second time the drilling machine had ever been used, Milo was rather surprised Mole seemed to be taking no pleasure in driving it, probably as a result of the entire situation.  
  
About a minute before reaching the cliff, Kida awoke, stretching as best she could in the confined space by hugging her ribs.  
  
"Feeling better?" asked the concerned husband.  
  
"Yes." she rubbed her eyes. "How far away are we?"  
  
"We are here now," interjected Mole.  
  
"Good!" came Milo and Kida in a strange simultaneousness, obviously the result of living together.  
  
Kida dared to leap from the vehicle while it was still moving to rush ahead as it slowed in front of the small caravan. Milo waited a few seconds, jumping out as soon as the machine had stopped, and tried to catch up. He saw her enter the opening to the greater cavern and he followed, only to stop almost immediately, stepping just past the great spiral shell.  
  
Kida stood where he had three years ago when he first witnessed the city. Her shoulders rose and fell with great breath, but not with amazement as he had had, but the same horror that ate away at him now.  
  
Atlantis stood intact, but as quiet as a crypt. The empire, by the glow of the Fires Below, shone the color of blood. When his wife fell to her knees, he ran to her, thinking she had relapsed, only to find her lying prostrate, praying to the spirits desperately for help. He did not blame her, for the Mother Crystal was nowhere in sight.  
  
"¡Mi Dios!" Milo heard Audrey cry, followed by Sweet's, "Oh. Lord help us," as others arrived, voicing their alarm.  
  
"Oh my gosh.!" The linguist shook his head in disbelief. If it weren't for the fact he saw the occasional gourdhouse light he would have thought the city dead. Milo did not notice his wife rise from prayer.  
  
"We must go," he heard her say. "Get the vehicles and the pendants."  
  
"Wait!" Mole pushed through. "Sometheeng does not smell right," he said suspiciously.  
  
"What else can we do, Mole?" came Milo. "We have to look into this!"  
  
"I don't ah like it either." Vinny placed his hand on the king's shoulder. . "Reminds me ah somethin' I met up with before."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It was ah somethin' they put me in jail for, you know, the one it ah seemed they had police set up to arrest me. They were fast to blame ah me for a detonation. It almost feels like a setup or somethin'."  
  
"I do not know about that, but I steel do not like theez."  
  
"Hey Milo, don't you think we could try disguises or something?" Audrey asked.  
  
"Well, I guess." He looked to the smoking woman just ambling over.. "Packard, do you still have any of that old makeup you had from a couple of years ago?"  
  
She flicked her cigarette aside. "What's it to you?" she droned.  
  
"Well, we could use it for disguises. Our skin doesn't exactly match the Atlanteans."  
  
"I dunno. Hold on a second." The communications officer strode back, returning a moment later with a bag. "Yeah, I got rid of most of it, but I still have some." What she held up wasn't nearly enough for the six that needed it most, Kida needing only enough to cover her tattoos and Sweet requiring none to speak of.  
  
Mole spoke up, a rodent-like grin on an enthusiastic face. "We could use sedeements and water to help. Common mud."  
  
Audrey sighed. "Yeah, you're right."  
  
"Much as I hate ta contaminate my equipment, we'll need ta mix it in somethin'." Sweet pulled from his bag a large beaker.  
  
"That is good thinking," began Kida as she took the glass container. "Mole? I would assume you would like to do the 'honors?'"  
  
"Oui, mademoiselle!" he came, gratefully and gentlemanly taking the beaker from Kida's hands and scampered to a puddle nearby.  
  
"But what about hair? Or tattoos?" The scholar motioned with an outward palm.  
  
"That can be taken care of," the queen said, looking over the ground.  
  
"Uh, Kida, what are you doing?"  
  
"Searching for. Here!" She began to examine a plant at the cave's mouth with broad magenta blossoms. "Do you have more containers, Sweet?"  
  
"Yes I do, ma'am. Need one?"  
  
"Yes, please." Kida gathered a few blooms and dug up some roots before accepting the glass.  
  
As Kida squeezed a pasty substance from a broken root into the container, Vinny spoke. "Eh, your majesty, those flowers are ah nice an' all, but I don' think this is ah good time."  
  
"I would disagree." She took a deep breath, holding it as she shook the bloom over the beaker. A cloud of blue pollen appeared, which she wafted away and into the glass container. While he watched her stir the cream and pollen with a stick a wisp of the blue powder went up his nose, causing him to sneeze. When he opened his eyes again, he spied his wife jamming the stick into the concoction forcefully, and when she had removed it the end had splintered in such a way as to separate the fibers, making a crude brush. "This shall be for the tattoos."  
  
"And the root sap would color our hair?"  
  
"Correct Milo. I do warn you all, though I doubt it matters, than this pollen can stain your skin. I have brushed against these plants before."  
  
The cartographer wondered what was taking the geologist so long. "Mole? Why--"  
  
"Milo, come here."  
  
The king went to the man still standing at the puddle.  
  
"Look. Do you see theez?"  
  
"They." He bent down to look, stretching out a hand toward, but not touching, the prints and scrapings. "They look like bootprints."  
  
"They are over a day old, but I am sure you are right. Judgeeng from how deep they are, the eendeeveedual must have been fairly heavy."  
  
"Sounds right. But how could there be bootprints here?"  
  
Mole just shrugged.  
  
"Guys, are you coming or not?" Audrey used the cream to smooth her hair straight.  
  
"Yeah, sorry."  
  
Mole scooped up the mud with loving care and took the makeup from Packard, the darker clay turning the makeup, once a shade too light, to the perfect color. However, everyone knew it would crumble away with time. Milo simply mussed his hair, unsure of what to do with it after using the root sap, and watched while Kida undid the tie that held the bunch of hair along the left side. She then used it to make a partial ponytail in the back. He then participated with most of the rest of them in the smearing of muddied makeup on skin.  
  
"Milo, you understand the tattoo designs, do you not?"  
  
"Well, yeah, of course."  
  
"Help me apply the paint then," she said, covering the last of her royal tattoos with the mud mixture.  
  
"Let me guess. Nothing besides basic stuff you might give children and tattoos given to young warriors?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Using a stick, leaf, and finger he applied modest tattoos to his friends. Milo, however, found it difficult to persuade Cookie that the United States tattoo on his chest would not help him blend in with Atlantean culture.  
  
"Y'know, I think we're missin' somethin'." Sweet plucked the edge of his tanktop.  
  
"Clothes," answered Milo, who sighed. "We don't really have enough for a disguise for everyone. We'd stick out like a cat in ancient Greece."  
  
Everyone gave him a blank look.  
  
"Cats were sacred and weren't allowed out of Egypt in those times. Point being, we've got to get some clothes from somewhere before or as we sneak in."  
  
"Are there any shops we could ah hit?"  
  
"Well," began Milo, "there is a store that might work."  
  
. . .  
  
  
  
"I cannot believe I am stealing! And from my own people!"  
  
"Jeez, believe it," said Audrey quietly.  
  
Everyone now wore cloaks and robes, clothes considered not only warm to Atlantean climate, but also more formal. "At least," Milo mused, they aren't royal and help to hide what we look like." He knew that would be important as their disguised crumbled and sweated away.  
  
As a distant hushed murmur met Milo's ears he heard Kida shush everyone. All was quiet as they hid amongst the clothes, listening to the voices in the night as they spoke in Atlantean.  
  
"And Khobdesheh did not believe you when you reported in?" came a gruff voice.  
  
"No, he simply dismissed it," responded a woman. He said I must have seen a gorlock and I dreamt when it knocked me unconscious. But you believe me, yes?"  
  
"As outlandish as it is, I do. You are not one to lie, Keneshea."  
  
"Thank you." A pause hung like death. "Were you reassigned as well?"  
  
"Yes! I am an artisan, not a cleaner of the streets!"  
  
"Why did they decide this?"  
  
Milo watched Kida try to slip out for a look, but when he tried to follow, he lost his balance, inadvertently knocking some small boxes.  
  
"Shhh!"  
  
The discussion thus halted, as did Milo and Kida. A nervous moment passed before something unintelligible was murmured, and then the conversation resumed.  
  
"I was afraid it was Khobdesheh or a guard." As this was said, the linguist resumed following his wife.  
  
"I understand," answered the man. "You are not free to speak your mind, now."  
  
"I wonder what changed them so?"  
  
"I do not know. They are the first to risk the lives of their people like this! How many died in the construction of the case? How many elders perished during the energy wave?"  
  
"I can only guess. It could have been much worse, I suppose. People died, yes, but half the city could have for all our knowledge."  
  
"I still wondered what changed them."  
  
"It must have been some exposure to something in the outer world. Supposedly it is not the perfect culture Kida envisioned. Perhaps there is a darkness above us."  
  
"Perhaps, but Milo was from the surface. He might have had it in him."  
  
The king met up with the queen at the edge of a horizontal display. Crouching, they peered over the pottery into the street. He glanced back to see his friends slowly approach.  
  
"Are you saying he corrupted her?!" came the woman in exclamation.  
  
"Shhh! Keep your voice down! Yes, that is what I am saying. Or perhaps they both encountered something above. I only know we did not worry about this before their last leaving for WEH-dihn-tem."  
  
"But what you speak of is treasonable!"  
  
"So are your words my friend. We are no longer in the same age. It seems our rulers have fallen further than those at the time of the MEH-behl- moak."  
  
All this time, Milo watched Kida's face as well as he man and woman, the latter of the two he was already a friend with. Kida's face grew confused, desperate, as he knew his must have looked. Breathing hard, she jumped pout, running to the two.  
  
"No!" Milo exclaimed in whisper.  
  
Horrified expressions appeared on the faces of the ex-artisan and the horn blower. "Guard!"  
  
"No!" Kida spoke first in a loud tone, then a softer one as she motioned with out-turned palms. "I mean you no harm."  
  
"Who are you?" Keneshea asked.  
  
"Why do you believe this?"  
  
The man looked at her as one would a fool. "Look around you woman! Do you not see what has been done and know who must be responsible?"  
  
"I do," began the anxious queen, "but we have done nothing to make our home like this!"  
  
"We?" The artisan hunter notably peered at her face. "Kida?! Spirits!" He grabbed Keneshea's shoulder and pulled her down prostrate like he did. "Your majesty! Forgive us! We shall be happy with whatever you do! Even if that means death for our treason."  
  
"What are you talking about? I will not kill you!"  
  
"Might as well join her." Milo thought, walking up. He helped the man up gently. "What happened here?" The linguist noticed him shudder in fear at his touch. He spied his wife doing the same with the other.  
  
Keneshea spoke. "You. You are not angry? Neither for breaking our curfew nor our other transgressions?"  
  
"What? No! What happened here?"  
  
The woman continued. "I mean no disrespect, your majesties, so take pity on us in advance. Atlantis is this way by you orders."  
  
"What?!" Kida's voice was still quiet, now out of temporary habit, but the effect was the same as a full exclamation. "We ordered no such thing."  
  
The confused look was most notable on the man's face. "You do not remember ordering to harness the crystal and assigning others to make sure everything ran in a 'stable fashion?' You do not recall ordering the hunters to report in to Khobdesheh to keep them in check and the rest of us safe?"  
  
"Keep them in check?! No. My gosh, what could have-- Wait! Khobdesheh. Stability."  
  
Milo and Kida looked directly at each other in surprise and voiced their thoughts simultaneously. "Khobdesheh!"  
  
"The plan I never had the time to see."  
  
That machine he thought would provide stability. He did it without approval! Jiminy Christmas! We were gone for so long he--"  
  
"--Went ahead against our wishes and did it!" the queen finished.  
  
When the other explorers had arrived to listen the Atlanteans, unsure of their allegiance, stepped back, especially when Vinny spoke. "Eh, Milo? Mind ah fillin' us in?"  
  
"It's a long story," Milo now spoke in English. "Just a second." Turning back to Keneshea, he inquired in the same language, "Is everyone this miserable?"  
  
"As far as my knowledge permits."  
  
"Oh, dear." He shook his head. "Have everyone gather in the main plaza as fast as you can. Tell them Kida and I have returned and we're speaking there. But don't panic them! Say, umm.." Milo, began to speak almost to himself. "Say we're pleased with their loyalty. Yeah, that's good, that's good. We have a problem to solve."  
  
  
  
  
  
Based off the Disney Picture "Atlantis: the Lost Empire." The Name "Shards of Chaos" is property of Disney. The characters, "MUH-suh MIH-kee" and Khohbdesheh are my property, and I acknowledge I do not own the names. Fan fiction storyline also my property. Milo Thatch, Kidagakash, Bendoh, Rourke and other characters, names, concepts, and all Atlantean in this story are property of the Walt Disney Company. 


	3. CHAPTER 3: Debates

CHaPTER 3: Debates  
  
"Warin, did you see where the Crystal went?"  
  
"I am sorry to say I do not, Milo. No one I know does, but if there is someone, you will find out shortly."  
  
"But why was it removed anyway?"  
  
"The truth I may not know. A great casing had been placed around it. Not long after it was removed from our skies. Khobdesheh claimed it was to be placed in a great temple at a later time. No one has dared question this or inquire where for fear of angering either of you."  
  
The scholar shook his head. "Is there anything else really that he's done? I mean that machine in that north-side cave? Has he done anything with that?"  
  
The man looked puzzled for a moment before finally replying, "No."  
  
"Good. We don't need another machine being used that we don't even know what it does."  
  
"No, we do not."  
  
Milo sat looking on as Kida paced in casual wrap, the only clothing she currently had access to. Her expression, like his, was tense as people gathered in the plaza. He looked down to the cat in his lap, and stroked it in an unconscious attempt to calm himself. Fluffy meowed loudly, almost as if to ask what the problem was before the artist hunter spoke again.  
  
"Do you wish me to take the animal?"  
  
"Yes, please. It might look odd if I go up there with a cat." He gently handed the feline to the man and rose, his eyes meeting Kida's immediately. The linguist knew the same thoughts went through her mind, the same anger at Khobdesheh, the same apprehension of the situation they did not understand, the same desire to help their people, and the same need to be together to draw on each other's strengths. His brown eyes were almost a question, and the queen nodded in response, lips parted. They took each other's hands and walked to the stack of crates piled at the edge of the plaza, a makeshift speaking platform that they started to climb onto. The rest of the team stood to the side of it.  
  
Inhaling deeply, Kida projected her voice of concern. "My people! We know not what has been done here, but we have gathered you here to learn of it! With your help, we shall strive to set Atlantis right once more!" A vehicle came to a stop at the opposite end of the plaza.  
  
Milo stepped forward. "It appears Khobdesheh has taken matters into his own hands to do what he thinks is right. He doesn't seem to realize the pain he's caused."  
  
"I know even the bohodmok does not survive if it does not learn what pain is and is willing to hurt to hunt."  
  
A roar went through the crowd as Khobdesheh stood in the Aktirak across the plaza.  
  
"Khobdeheh!" Kida exclaimed, Milo communicating his surprise with silence.  
  
"Milo. Kida. Pain is necessary to life." He pressed a strange glove or section of armor to his side. "I understand this fact better than anyone."  
  
"Khobdesheh! What've you done?!"  
  
"You do not know?"  
  
All was silent. Indeed, they truly had called the people to learn exactly what was happening and to explain that they had no knowledge of or hand in this.  
  
"You have not heard? Then I suppose it will be I who will educate the naive." Milo saw Kida stiffen defensively, biting her lip. "Atlantis's future is ensured. Imagine an empire where the rulings and laws were consistent, and the views remained the same. The people need not worry about their ruler dying within their lives. Generations upon generations would deal with the same principles and commandments. The ruler would live for eons, each person sacrificing his or her own spiritual life for the sake of society's survival.  
  
"You're killing society! Look at what you're doing Khobdesheh! Master artists and incredible dancers are being turned into hunters. Singers and even historians are being turned into police or janitors, basically! The arts are essential to culture and, though you keep some, is it really enough? Arts, history, all of that separates a society from a pack of animals. Are you trying to preserve a culture or just a race?!"  
  
"A culture is a way of life. I offer a way of life that will survive millions of years. People will be free from fear. There will be no crime, and no one will ever go hungry. We need not fear for our survival. What our lives were degenerating into before the second cataclysm will never happen."  
  
"You are right. Our people will be alive," Kida began, "but will they truly live?" The woman took on an authentic air of wisdom, a trait that reminded Milo of her father. "You are cutting their lives short, are you not? How are they to live without fear if they do not know if they will die in ten thousand years or a century? You--"  
  
"But they do know, Kida. They will die within 150 years."  
  
"What?!" Milo shouted. It was like being told they all had less than six months to live. "You can't do that! What if the places were reversed? What would you say then?"  
  
"If it would better Atlantis I would do it. However, since certain rulers have been so blind as to put comparable merriments ahead of their own culture's survival, I take the burden."  
  
"Then you do put fear into their spirits by lessening it so much! And in addition to this you instill fear in pour people by-"  
  
"Would neither of you sacrifice comfort or your lives for Atlantis? It seems you would have only three years ago. My people! Do you see? Your king and queen have changed. They are now hypocrites!  
  
A soft murmur flowed through the crowd.  
  
"Of course we'd sacrifice that," Milo exclaimed, "but not at the price of innocent people who have little choice in the matter!"  
  
"You lied," Kida roared. "You made our people fear us, telling them of our ruthlessness. We were on the rise! Our people were content!"  
  
"They do not know any better, Kida!" Milo noted the ex-advisor's words had an effect as he saw his wife's eyes grow large and she stepped back in some revelation he did not understand. "Though they are learning, many people still cannot read or write yet, and even more cannot do it well. Yes, our history is being revived, but have they truly learned enough? I think not. Try, Milo. Ask, 'Who was Simadar?'"  
  
The king blinked. The name evaded memory, if he had ever stumbled across it.  
  
"And you do not know either. Ask yourself if you know better, Milo. Simadar freed Atlantis from a corrupt king."  
  
"Sounds like you liken yourself to Simadar, Khobdesheh. Did he ever mislead his people?"  
  
The man with the ash-white hair paused on the red-veined vehicle, leaving the crowd to whisper. "That is not something I hold on high, but something I did to better us all, something you are blind to. I give you a second chance. Side with me. Take my pain, if you wish, but understand me!"  
  
"A second chance? To accept pain and fear? No one can live like that. Sorry. Thanks, but no thanks." Milo tightened his lips.  
  
Khobdesheh simply looked down, shrugging a bit. Though Milo could not hear it, he knew the advisor sighed. "I believe in second chances. People grow wiser. Anyone can change in any or every sense of the word. Even the most unlikely can learn to understand." He looked to an area at the end of the plaza Milo could not see, as it was obscured by a fallen pillar. Khobdesheh seemed to gesture to the dilapidated architecture.  
  
First a blue glow with the occasional flash of red, then an entirety of it emerged. Like some hideous metamorphosis the situation contorted itself into another form: a nightmare.  
  
Milo, accompanied by the people just below gasped. As Milo clenched a fist, he heard Kida murmur a growl so heated and fierce the lava would have evaporated. The being that strode beside the Aktirak was unmistakable, the now crystalline entity who had already worked his way into stories that would frighten children. Rourke stood before them all, smiling.  
  
No one dared take their eyes from him, even when Khobdesheh began to speak once more. "As I said, anyone can change, as amazing as it is. You both are a danger to this way of life. You threaten what is best for Atlantis. I am sorry, Milo. I apologize, Kida. I have no choice." He thrust his armored right limb into the air of night. Behind him rose a sight breathtaking in what had become horrifying. What must have been nearly the entire armada, completely unmanned, hovered, intricate patters that once glowed blue were now scarlet lacerations in the ancient stone.  
  
"Eh, this doesn't look good." Vinny gawked with the rest.  
  
"We'd better be gittin'!"  
  
Kida joined Milo in stepping to the back edge of the crates. "That... would be wise.!"  
  
As a clawed hand was pointed to the two speakers, the crowd began to scatter, crying out.  
  
Like a wildfire the vehicles enveloped the sky. The team bolted, hoping to find refuge anywhere.  
  
Kida by his side, or slightly ahead of him as the case was, Milo scrambled over ruins and sped down steps, wishing they had spears to aid them in their flight. "Split up! If he's controlling them we'll be harder to follow!"  
  
A Martag flew low, the fish vehicle preparing to attack. In the growing distance was the ex-advisor's Aktirak. A screaming whistle seemed to call forth a crimson bolt of energy from the closest vehicle's gaping mouth. As the red lightning struck the ground debris flew, becoming projectiles in themselves. The king stumbled as a stone impacted his skull, causing him to yelp. His vision sparked for several seconds. Rubbing the back of his head the linguist glanced to his left to see a slab of stone slam against Audrey's back, pinning her to the ground. "No!" He ran to his friend, trying to lift it in spite of the increasing barrage around them.  
  
"Get out of here!" the mechanic gasped as Kida joined to help.  
  
"Not without 'ya!" Milo heard Sweet exclaim. With his gentle muscle the stone rolled over without hurting its captive.  
  
A Turtak, jaws wide, hurtled toward them. Audrey was grabbed by her overalls by Sweet, who easily hoisted her over her shoulder as he bolted. Milo and Kida closed behind. A massive explosion signaled the Turtak's assault. Pebbles beat the king's skin, and luckily nothing else besieged him. Milo followed when Kida broke away, but still tried to not where everyone else was amidst the chaos.  
  
He peered back over his shoulder. Closest to him was a Ketak. The erudite man barely had time to wonder why when it swooped low, causing him and his wife to dive for cover. The vehicle crashed cataclysmically, exploding with a brilliant display of fire. Its debris became weapons, pieces painfully pummeling them. Kida yelled as a large segment crashed against her right arm. Milo looked back again, clambering to his feet as another Martag bore down on them. There was nothing either pf them could do.  
  
From the corner of his vision came a figure running toward the vehicle, lobbing something that seemed to spark magically in this time between life and death. So near to it the man was when the explosives entered the machine's mouth. Again a blast sounded, close enough Milo could feel it in his teeth. He flinched when he felt a wall of heat that felt like it should sear his skin. The scholar opened his eyes in time to see the figure fly past.  
  
"Vinny!" Though Milo was already standing, Kida, cradling her arm, reached him first.  
  
"Vinny! Are you all right?!"  
  
"Say something!"  
  
The demolitionist coughed, the jerk shaking off the ash that was once his eyebrows and much of his moustache. The linguist took the burning match from his mouth. "Now that was ah boom!" he smiled. Milo smiled back, relieved.  
  
"Quickly! We must move him!"  
  
"Gotcha."  
  
An Aktirak skimmed above.  
  
Together Milo and Kida, using only her good arm, lifted him by the shoulders and arms onto theirs and ran as best they could.  
  
When they reached what seemed to be a dead end, a raspy accented voice met the ears of those filled with trepidation. "Psst! Here!" loudly whispered Mole from what looked like a freshly dug trench. The trio quickly dashed for it, landing a little hard. To their relief, the rest of the crew occupied it too. Everyone, Milo noted, was scratched, bruised, an attending to their wounds except for Packard. How she managed to get away with only a few more dents in her helmet the king would never know.  
  
"Sweet!" Milo breathed loudly. "Vinny's been hurt!" His words proved unnecessary, however, since the physician went to them immediately. He watched the African Native American, with all his care, remove the demolitionist's breast plate and black sweater.  
  
"'M I ah gonna make it, Doc?" Vinny raised a nonexistent eyebrow.  
  
"Oh yeah, but let me work on 'ya, first."  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief, Milo glanced around for his wife. He found her crouching at the other end of the trench, facing away from everyone. The linguist crawled over on three limbs, pressing his crystal against the back of his head with the last. "Kida, are--" When he saw her face he backed away immediately. It had been years since he had seen any expression that even compared to the venom that scorched her face.  
  
"Yes?" Her tone, though extremely serious, did not convey the utter hatred her face had expressed.  
  
"You."  
  
"The queen turned to face him, her eyes no longer looking as if they could melt something with a glance. "Forgive me. I have not been this." Her anger kept her from finding the exact word she wanted. She held out her hands in frustration.  
  
"Enraged?" Milo offered.  
  
"Yes," she said, still not satisfied. "I have not since that murderer earned his title!" It was clear Kida was trying to hide some of it, for the hint of a powerful growl had entered her voice.  
  
Milo dared to cautiously put his hand on her left arm, cooking concernedly to her face.  
  
"I vowed I would kill him when he struck Father. I have the chance now." She tensed. "What were you going to ask me?"  
  
"I. uh." After seeing that expression Milo had to find the thoughts that had run for cover. "Are you okay? I mean, of course not, Rourke's alive and we're on the run, but. How's the arm?" He noted she still cradled it. "Haven't you healed it yet?"  
  
She exhaled heavily as she looked at it. "It is broken. I need Sweet to help me set the bones in place or lit will not heal properly."  
  
"Call me?" the doctor asked. Sweet's amicability still showed even in his most seriousness of faces, something that eased Milo's nerves and surely alleviated Kida's restless spirit. "Now, lemme see that arm." She held it out, the limb already swelling. "Pretty bad break, but we can fix that. Now, get ready ma'am." Kida clenched her jaw as the expert physician cracked it into place. Delicately Sweet healed the break with short, precise applications of his crystal. "Better?"  
  
Kida flexed her arm and hand. "Yes, very much so. Thank you."  
  
"Uh, Sweet? How's Vinny? What about Audrey?"  
  
"My pride is hurt." he heard the Latino girl comment, "but otherwise I'm good."  
  
"Vinny's gonna be fine, but considering the broken ribs and shoulder, it'll still take a while for him to recover. He took a big hit. He's tired from both that and the extensive healing. Vinny was in mild shock, I believe."  
  
"Knowing you, I'm sure you're right." When Sweet went back to the Italian, Milo and Kida crept behind. Vinny opened his eyes and liked at the linguist. "That was amazing, Vinny."  
  
"Had it not been for you, a twelfth King Stone would have been presented to the Mother Crystal. You saved us."  
  
"We owe you our lives. Thank you."  
  
"Ey, it was nothing." He looked straight up, dreamy. "I think I found the perfect boom. Some sorta reaction between the circuits and the dynamite, I think." He smiled contentedly, eyes flickering. The demolitionist popped his eyes open and put his gloved fingers to his brows and upper lip. "Now ah tell me. How do I look with half ah moustache, eh?"  
  
Milo chuckled a bit. "Like a hero." However, he found Vinny already asleep from exhaustion as he said it. The linguist just shook his head a little. He looked up to see the little Frenchman examining the edge of the trench. "Mole? Is it safe to say you dug this?"  
  
"Yes, but eet eez no marvel. The soil eez too soft here to accommodate anytheeng other than the seempleest unsupported structures." The geologist frowned as he examined the dirt.  
  
"Marvel or not, it was a great idea."  
  
Mole simply waved away the complement and went back to his work.  
  
Milo sat down in the dust, still trying to take in all of what had happened. He was now a refugee in his own land, and his own advisor had betrayed him. The linguist put his hand over his eyes. It was like a book he had read before, some terrible story he had heard. He couldn't believe what was happening.  
  
Milo found himself longing to pet his cat, wondering if she was safe.  
  
"But could it be true...?" he wondered aloud.  
  
"Could what be true?"  
  
The king looked back at the queen. "What Khobdesheh said. That anyone can change."  
  
Her face flamed again as she turned it away. "Rourke can never change!"  
  
"I didn't say Khob was right, but. Why would he join up with him? Unless he had changed, I mean. Khobdesheh has always been prone to jump into things, but we didn't have a stupid advisor."  
  
"Rourke cannot change. He must be forcing Khobdesheh to do this!"  
  
"I think if Khobdesheh found himself a tool for Rourke he'd be more likely to kill himself. Like you might."  
  
Kida looked back at him, eyes conveying conflicting emotions, the rest of her face unsure of which feeling to side with.  
  
"Kida, something here's different. Maybe the Crystal's power changed him for the better, or--"  
  
"Perhaps he is misleading Khobdesheh the same way he mislead you."  
  
"You took the words right out of my mouth."  
  
"What? How?!"  
  
"Nevermind. Just a saying. 'Exactly,' is what I mean."  
  
"If the crystal changed him for the better, why, as you have told me, did he continue to come after you in that form?"  
  
Milo paused. "It might be something that occurs over time?"  
  
"It sure wasn't to give you a hug." Audrey's sarcastic remark made Milo realize everyone was listening to their conversation.  
  
"No." the cartographer voiced. "But something still isn't right here. Maybe whatever it is with Rourke has also to do with the Crystal. Wherever it is." He ran a hand over his hair.  
  
"Maybe that's why he's alive and our crystals are glowin' red."  
  
"That's probably the connection, Sweet. We really don't know what's going on. Or how--"  
  
"Get down!" came Mole. An unmanned Aktirak flew overhead, hovering briefly above them before moving on.  
  
"It. didn't attack us."  
  
"Qué obviamente, Milo. (How obvious, Milo.)"  
  
"But why in the cockle doodle didn't it do it?"  
  
Pushing up his glasses the king replied to Cookie, "It must be a scout."  
  
"Which means we must move now!" exclaimed Kida in whisper.  
  
Voices in the background silenced them all, freezing them in the trench. Glancing around, Milo pulled a stone from the soil. One edge had been sheared off long ago, creating a natural but crude sharp edge. Slowly he crept to the edge, only to find his glasses snatched away. An unfocused Kida, pressed against the wall, held them up with one hand above the edge to angle them carefully. She was using the vague reflections to look around.  
  
"People are searching." the huntress breathed, barely audible.  
  
A soft impact on earth and a tweet caused them all to whirl. There perched a large man, armed with a spear, crouching at the border of their tiny sanctuary. A steady rhythm in the opposite direction let the team know the others were running toward them.  
  
Milo grabbed his glasses away from Kida and stood, stone in hand. His heart exploded with energy. "Get back.!"  
  
"Do not be afraid. We are here to help all of you."  
  
"What? We thought you were a search party."  
  
"Yes, Milo, but we are not searching under Khobdesheh's order."  
  
"PAH-geh-sheh-nen NEE-shen-toap AHD-luhn-tih-suhg. (Thank you, Spirits of Atlantis)"  
  
"I would not be amazed to hear the whole city believes in you."  
  
"Are there many that believe?"  
  
"Yes, my queen."  
  
The crew ducked as another Martag flew over.  
  
"Do not fear. I do not believe they can see us. We believe Khobdesheh must be able to see a target for any complex command. The vehicles are running like guards. If you were found at least one vehicle would be close enough to subdue you quickly this way. They seem not to need much direction to simply run in large circles."  
  
"So... Khob can't see us?"  
  
"No. Come. There is much we must set right."  
  
  
  
Based off the Disney Picture "Atlantis: the Lost Empire." The Name "Shards of Chaos" is property of Disney. The characters, "MUH-suh MIH-kee" and Khohbdesheh are my property, and I acknowledge I do not own the names. Fan fiction storyline also my property. Milo Thatch, Kidagakash, Bendoh, Rourke and other characters, names, concepts, and all Atlantean in this story are property of the Walt Disney Company. 


	4. CHAPTER 4: What Resides Within

CH?PTER 4: Wh?t Resides Within  
  
  
  
Milo looked in the mirror as he applied the pollen mixture again. He found the ghostly blue outlines helpful in replicating the pattern. After washing his stained hands he tried to smooth his pasty hair again. The clothes he now wore where better suited for disguises than the cloak would be, though, in a few cases, the cloaks would still be needed by his friends. The linguist was grateful to the family that provided the attire.  
  
The bookish king stepped out, the last to finish, somewhat to his chagrin. Something warm and soft rubbed up against his leg. "Here, Kitty." Milo picked Fluffy up and cradled her. "What? Fluffy? What've you gotten into?" Bits of blue highlighted her paws and tail. It seemed she had gotten into the pollen mixture. "Fluffy." As he walked to another room, one away from the discussing team, he passed Warin. I gotta hand it to you. You took great care of her. Thanks."  
  
The stocky Atlantean smiled with a slight bow. "There was little more I could do then."  
  
Smiling back, Milo replied with another "thank you" and pushed through the door curtain. Many of the fireflies had been released form their globes, resulting in a dimmer room. The area smelled of herbs and was a little warmer somehow. Inside were several beds, all accommodated by those hurt either during the construction of the Casing or the attack in the plaza. Only one had a man sitting beside it. The giant doctor grinned to Milo from the bedside.  
  
"You still think this is a good idea?"  
  
"Sure. Seen it work out in the field," Sweet whispered back.  
  
"Seen ah what?" Vinny shifted in bed.  
  
"Oh, I uh.." Milo walked to the demolitionist's side. "I brought a friend. Sweet's idea." Fluffy was put on the edge of the bed, mewing softly as she walked onto Vinny's chest.  
  
"I've seen animal therapy help ta heal people and help 'em recover faster."  
  
"How 'bout that, eh?" When the Persian lay down, the Italian put a hand on her. "Wouldn't you be afraid I'd light her tail on fire or what?"  
  
Mouth closed, Milo couldn't help but laugh through his closed lips. Only Vinny could be caught in an explosion and still have a sense of humor. "Nah. Besides, where I'm going I doubt she'd want to come along."  
  
"Well, none of us would ah want to be in the center of the city."  
  
"Yeah. Anyplace closer to Rourke and Khobdesheh." The tone of the discussion outside the door seemed to indicate an even greater restlessness.  
  
"We'd better be goin'. Now, if ya need anythin', the doctor will be in ta check on ya. The Atlantean one, I mean. Not me."  
  
"Take care, Vinny," Milo said as he walked out the door.  
  
"'Ey, I'll be outta here faster than you can say 'trinitroluene.'" Vinny's voice was but a loud whisper, even when he mentioned TNT.  
  
The king's sight went directly to his queen, who stood talking with Keneshea. He overheard conversations as he passed others. The only person in the room, he noted, who did not seem particularly worried by this was Cookie. He seemed to be bartering some of the bacon grease he had been carrying for what Milo guessed was the cook's hope for the Atlantean equivalent. As the king approached the women he could clearly hear Kida's words.  
  
"What of the city's activity? Surely Khobdesheh must know so many, if not all, oppose him."  
  
The woman smiled. "That is how fear turned against him. We were afraid to oppose him, after his 'gesture' at the debate. Thus, when people asked each other, they kept quiet as if they were thinking about conducting their daily lives. The news of discontentment is spreading rapidly in this fashion. I have heard of no one yet siding with Khobdesheh. To him it likely appears we plan to live by his lifestyle."  
  
"What about spies?"  
  
"I do not know, Milo. If there is anyone unloyal, we do not know as of yet."  
  
The cartographer hummed a thoughtful, concerned note. "So where's the secret wing of the library I was told about?"  
  
Kida answered for the keeper of the shell horn. "Keneshea has already explained how to get to the area. There will be a guard protecting it as there has been since Khobdesheh has begun his work upon this land."  
  
"So you'll lead the way?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay." Milo turned back to Keneshea. "Thanks for your help."  
  
"We have each other to thank. The people will help you, but all of you will save us."  
  
Within minutes a band of seven emerged from the large gourd house, carrying baskets of fruit and armloads of textiles so as to appear to simply be heading to the central marketplace. The sky was still dark, as it seemed it had been for much more than a single night. The king found himself wondering if, in this chaos, the usurper had forgotten to lighten it. He secretly wished for a pocket watch. Along the way fireflies flew, a constant reminder of this. Even in this darkness they joined with others on their way, perhaps aware as well that maybe the morning might have been forgotten. The men and women would give them an odd look, trying to decide who they were before realization snapped their eyes forward, knowing what must be happening. The vehicles continued to prowl above.  
  
As the crew neared the market, they handed off their goods to other people or set them to the side, clustering into two groups and looking as best they could as relishers of the early morning, out for a stroll. Before long they had ducked into an alley, following Kida's motion to continue. Walking to the side of the great library they all paused at the sound of a soft, forceful voice in the darkness. One could only tell where he was by the red glow of his crystal.  
  
"Stop! Who are you?"  
  
Kida's voice responded. "We are those who need not be feared, and desire to save our future."  
  
A sound of stone grinding against stone grated painfully upon their eardrums. A doorway appeared, the light from inside highlighting only a few features of the guard's silhouette. "You have come. In case Khobdesheh arrives, I will stick the switch so he will believe the door is jammed. However, this traps you inside. Knock upon the stone and I will open the door if all is clear.  
  
Milo felt a pang of worry, but nodded his thanks. There was a strange feeling inside him, a feeling he rarely had. He wondered if he was suspicious of the guard. It would be so simple to trap and capture them this way. Yet the linguist knew he had little choice either way. Milo could not back out, for they had to take the risk if they might find the information they needed inside. He shook the feeling away, reprimanding himself a little for the notion, and entered. The passage consisted of a stairway down below the building. The walls were well-lit with crystal- activated lamps that threw their golden light upon them all. The echoing screech of the door closing was worse inside. At the bottom of the stairway were the remains of a long-ago-decayed wooden door. The gaping hole opened up into an astonishing chamber. Though used, it still had the feel of having been untouched for thousands of years. Dust lined the corners and silk from a native species of insect larva strung like cobwebs over sections of the place. Though footprints were clear in the dust, even Milo could tell the difference between the oldest and the newest ones. A smell of old paper and perhaps decaying books hung heavier than guilt in the secret chamber. To the surprise of all, however, the room was not stocked as full of books as the rest of the building above.  
  
"Where do we start?" Audrey asked?  
  
"Look for anything that looks like it might be blueprints or a personal log. Anything with handwriting that looks messier, like it wasn't meant to be read by anyone else. Then take that to either Kida or me."  
  
"Milo, eef we cannot read Atlantean, how do you expect us to know eef the handwriting eez conseedered messy?" Mole had already begun to dirty a book.  
  
"Um. Well." He peered over the geologist's shoulder. "Okay, use this writing as a guide. If it deviates too much from this, it's probably his writing."  
  
So the search began. Through old tomes they explored, hoping to find some hint, any illustration that might explain the situation. Every hour masqueraded itself as a year, yet at times when an odd sound was heard pounding hearts rushed the time. The utter lack of sleep had begun to affect Milo. Not having slept since Kida's episode save for brief naps between bumps in the Digger 2, he found his eyelids drooping as he looked at what at times seemed like gibberish. As dire the situation and as interesting as the tomes would have been to him normally, he still could not help joining a quieter, darker world, a world of peace reached by slumping in his chair. The linguist had little idea how long his unintended rest had been when he felt a softy nudging at his shoulder. He looked at a blurry face, his glasses having fallen askew.  
  
"Milo. Milo. How is the search coming? Had you found anything?"  
  
Straightening his glasses he replied, "Sorry Kida. Not yet. A lot of history here. Government books." He yawned loudly, trying to pop his eyes open. Looking around, everyone seemed tired.  
  
"Yes, there is much." the queen sighed.  
  
"Looks like this feller left some orny-mental box here."  
  
"Jeez, it's just like the hairbrush I found." Audrey responded to Cookie.  
  
"Or the shaving knife I found."  
  
The mechanic looked back at the replying Kida. "You'd think he'd pick up after himself."  
  
"Yes. That is a puzzlebox," she said to country cook. "When I was a child, they were very popular."  
  
Milo watched as Cookie set the item on top of a stack of books piled precariously at the other end of the table. The cartographer then cracked open a new book to a random page. It was part of a large collection. "Seems like it's all similar subjects. He was certainly doing his research." Peering at the words, only one registered: "Simadar." "Hold on a second!" Milo's mind finally fired, recovering a bit of the past unknown to both himself and his people. As he read, he realized that collection from which he was reading must be nearly the whole of the surviving documents from just after the Mebelmoak. "Everyone listen to this!"  
  
"'.But he was not like the eldest son, Atlas. A great greed consumed this king, the last of the ten brothers. Chigohl not only continued the conquest, but also hastened it to a frightening speed. By this time the conflicts we see today growing between Atlantis and Egypt and Athens were beginning to take shape, due to his increased pursuits of the smaller nations. In his palace, what is now rebuilt as the Atlantean Grand Hotel for our increasingly fewer foreign guests and our wealthiest residents, he kept a great trove of riches. They were indeed a sight to behold, things our ancestors would, in their naivety, surely marvel at for their beauty rather than their value.'"  
  
Milo paused for a second, realizing that during Atlantis's decay, her people had thankfully regressed to that earlier way of thinking.  
  
"'The king realized the inevitable: he would not be able to enjoy his riches forever. In his greed, he ordered every architect and engineer of Atlantis to him, commanding them all to build a device that would increase his power over the over the Heart of Atlantis. Those who would not obey were sentenced to death.  
  
The final outcome of the great project resulted in the imprisonment of the Crystal itself. It was housed in a stone chamber barely larger than itself. As the Chigohl had desired, he could now control the Distribution of Life. In hopes for immortality, the king decided to shorted the life expectancy of his people to match that of the people in other cultures at that time.'"  
  
"My gosh." Milo added in a comment. "That could've easily been thirty years!" He was answered by the continuation of the stunned silence.  
  
"The machine had unexpected effects. The king found he had not only control over life, but control over the Mother Crystal's movement and over all devices that operated under it's power."  
  
"What if Khob brings in the Leviathan?" Audrey asked.  
  
"Even if he has thought of it, I do not believe he would. The destruction would be too great if he used it to try to destroy us."  
  
"Let's hope you're right, Kida." Milo cleared his throat a little before continuing. "'Just as dangerous was his new ability over healing. If he wished it, and if the person was near enough, the king had the ability to block crystal healing processes. He subdued many of his enemies that resided close by within the city in this manner, letting them die of wounds inflicted by his guards."  
  
"Good thing he didn't do that when he was sendin' those vehicles after us."  
  
"We must have been too far away fro eet to work."  
  
"But what 'bout the life distribution ability?" Sweet continued. "He could just end our lives at any time, couldn't he?"  
  
The question hung in the air grimly.  
  
"We're all gonna die."  
  
".Perhaps he cannot shorten lifespans to less than what it would be simply of dying of old age. The worst he may do is let us age normally."  
  
"I wish that were true, Kida," the scholar broke in, "but it said their lives were shortened to the life expectancy of other peoples in that time. Thirty years was the life expectancy then of most people in a culture, not the longest one could normally live. Some individuals lived to be more than double that age if they weren't killed or contracted some disease. That's something Atlantis hasn't had to worry about since, well, probably its start. Don't forget, at that time, medical technology, besides the crystals, was much better in Atlantis, so individuals could actually die of old age, not what was considered to be old at the time. Even now, in the modern world, there are places where, women for instance, have a very short life expectancy because, unlike men, they are denied any real medical treatment. From that you can tell it's not genetic, err. I mean it's not in their blood, Kida, but more in their way of life. My guess is Khob either hasn't thought of that or would rather give us another chance siding with him. He seemed really hopeful we would. Until then he'll just hunt us." Milo saw his wife's expression change to one of half- concealed agitation. She did not like the feeling if being hunted.  
  
".Perhaps he cannot play favorites. Either all live a certain amount of time or none do," she suggested.  
  
"Just what I was thinking." Milo voiced before continuing. "'Thus the tyrant reigned. Though there were those who met, secret councils quickly made to overthrow him, they were being located and destroyed just as fast. As the time when the process would become irreversible.!' Holy smokes!"  
  
"How much time d'we have?" Cookie asked.  
  
"Does it say how long it will take?!" came Kida's comparatively loud inquiry.  
  
"I'm looking! '.Would become irreversible.' I don't see anything! It just goes on!"  
  
"Then we must pray to the Spirits that time has not passed yet."  
  
"'As the time when the process would become irreversible approached, a brave spirit emerged. Fate guided Simadar through peril so that his body reached the captive heart of Atlantis. He used what knowledge he had gained through spying to sabotage the device. Wisdom had given him the foresight to warn his people to stay away from the palace. The failure due to sabotage proved catastrophic. The result was the death of the king, heavy damage to the palace, and the martyrdom of Simadar, the hero Atlantis would always remember for his self-sacrifice.'"  
  
"How sad," Milo thought, "that so many documents of him must have been destroyed by the late king."  
  
"'After this began the Nedakh dynasty of today, a system of rule of only one king over the entirety of Atlantis's glory. In the early rule of King Kashekeim Nedakh and Queen Sheridona they repaired, and rebuilt the old palace, creating a new one in Circle Dihn's center for the new reign. Today they are best known for their technological advances made under their rule, especially regarding weaponry. Through their leadership, Atlantis is certain to become the most powerful empire in the world.'"  
  
"Seems inflated egos were in no short supply." Audrey crossed her arms.  
  
"Eez there anytheeng there on sabotaging. Or bluepreents?"  
  
"No," Milo flipped the pages. "It goes on to art history."  
  
"C'mon, then. Let's get to checkin' these other books!" At Sweet's proposal, Milo and Kida began to search the remaining books on the subject of Chigohl, the others looking for copies of the design in the books and papers. Occasional sighs, of both fatigue and frustration, whispered in the room. After what seemed like hours, but could surely be counted in minutes, the question was asked.  
  
"Has anyone found anything new?" Packard droned, bored.  
  
"No's" and shaking heads came from all.  
  
"I found only a few peectures, but the detail was notheeng that would be very useful." Mole's statement met similar agreements. Though Milo was not sure about his wife, he, at least, was actually tired of this.  
  
"This is so frustrating!" The Latino began to raise her voice. "There has to be something here that talks about how we can find and release that crystal tonto!"  
  
In her irritation, Audrey slammed the book she had been looking through onto the table. Everything on it jumped, seemingly in surprise. The king cringed as he saw the stack of books and what they supported topple onto the floor. A cacophonous noise assaulted ears when the puzzlebox hit stone.  
  
"Oh, gosh! Is it broken?!"  
  
Kida stooped to pick it and a few books up. "I do not believe so, though this knob may be cracked."  
  
"What about the sound, though?"  
  
"It plays music when it is opened." The queen replied as if it were obvious. "You heard the chimes hitting together." She paused as she looked at it, then put the books she had retrieved back on the table. Kida gently shook it. A few muffled dings could be heard. "There may be something inside. It is heavier than what I remember one should weigh."  
  
"The plans must be een there!" exclaimed Mole.  
  
Everyone relocated around the box holder.  
  
"Do you know how to open it?" Milo's eyes were wide.  
  
".No, not this one. Another, perhaps, but not this. If the key were here, we would not need to solve the puzzle. When I was a child, even after the MEH-behl-moak, parents would often keep small toys or treats in these. Groups of children would solve the puzzle, but parents always kept the key so the children would not be tempted to bypass the riddle."  
  
"So Khob has the key?"  
  
"It is likely, Audrey."  
  
"Wait a minute. Back up!" The linguist spun his fingers around each other. "You said groups of kids?"  
  
"Yes. One person cannot solve the puzzle. The concept is to teach children teamwork and sharing. No one child can obtain what is inside unless they work and share with others. I used to have a much smaller one, but the puzzle was different. It could be solved by two people."  
  
"Does anyone else see a human heart, here?" The physician pointed to the form centered on top of the intricate container. The stylized shape had been cut into four sections, a clear crystal knob protruding where they met. The iron and gold from was veined like the Atlantean vehicles.  
  
"Yeah. And letters making a border around the box. The buttons on that and the symbols here must be a part of the puzzle."  
  
"Oftentimes a lever must be held down for the buttons to be activated. It was that way on mine. I see two pairs of them here. I remember a switch or a knob was generally the last step of opening one of these." Kida trailed of as she slowly remembered her early childhood.  
  
"So, it's like turning the doorknob after unlocking the door." Out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife gesture a "yes."  
  
Audrey took the box. "Beautiful." She removed a glove to examine the intricate details cast in iron, gold and silver with her fingers. "It's a double combination lock, I think. The four buttons of the heart and the letters, probably. Where's the keyhole, Kida? I could beat this thing in less than--"  
  
"The key would be a crystal. You would not be able to pick it."  
  
Audrey growled in frustration and held the box out for someone else.  
  
The linguist was the one who took it. "Hey wait. There's. There's something written here." He wiped a side of it with the green sash around his waist, trying to make out the inscription. "It's. It's hard to make out. It's so old." Milo adjusted his glasses. "'What resides within?' The box...? The human body? No, surely the heart."  
  
Sweet spoke first. "Muscle tissue and blood, primarily."  
  
"The spirit," answered Kida.  
  
The king added his own. "Pure love."  
  
"Who you really are," came Audrey.  
  
"Home. They say it's where the heart is."  
  
Everyone groaned at Cookie's comment, but the mechanic actually replied. "Jeez, that's just a saying." She quickly pointed a finger towards Mole. "And I don't even want to know yours." Packard was the only one who did not say a word, or particularly care to.  
  
"Okay then." began Milo. ".Yours is the most literal, Sweet. Kida, yours is the most. Atlantean." He shrugged for lack of a better word for the moment as she raised an eyebrow. "Audrey, both yours and mine would be a little more abstract for this culture. I think in this case, since the answer would probably be more culture-oriented, 'spirit' is the most likely."  
  
"And since the heart here is divided into four sections, just like a real heart, the combination must be the direction blood would be flowin'."  
  
"Okay. Packard? Audrey? Hold the levers down. Sweet, you punch the sequence in on the heart. I hope it doesn't have to be done specifically before or after the word, "NEE-shen," is coded in. Then we'll turn the dial--"  
  
"Wait!" Milo found the box snatched out of his hands. "How well deed you exameene theez?!" Mole adjusted his goggles, the eyepieces lengthening as they viewed the knob.  
  
"It's just iron, gold, and quartz crystal on that part isn't it? Well, and some unactivated Atlantean crystal, I think."  
  
"Theez eez calcite, much softer than quartz. Eet eez amazeeng eet deed not powder when eet heet the ground. Calcite eez not much harder than your feengernail."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"And theez iron eez corroded from age. The area where the knob feets eento eez jagged. Because eet eez already cracked, the roughness of theez weel break the knob. We may not be able to get eet open without some lubreecation. Eef only I had some graphite powder."  
  
"Jiminy Christmas. How will we-- wait. Cookie, do you have nay of that bacon grease still with you?"  
  
"Yep. Found out Atlanteans cook with veggie-table oils, not grease, so I didn't swap for nothin'. But now ain't a real good time for eatin', Milo." The cook pulled a jar from his waders and handed it over to the scholar.  
  
"Lubrication!" cried Audrey.  
  
"Right. Now, let's get a bit down in here. Great!" He wiped his finger on his tunic, lacking a sink or napkin. "Let's do it."  
  
Packard and Audrey held down the sliver levers. Milo moved back and to the side so he could watch as Sweet punched in the sequence. When he finished, the crystal veins glowed crimson like almost everything else in Atlantis. Milo then approached, but when he saw his wife doing the same, he gestured and said, "Go ahead." She smiled and took the position to type. The linguist watched as she pressed the keys.  
  
"N. I. S." Milo sighed as the veins dimmed.  
  
"I pressed 's'." she said, realizing.  
  
"Yep. You should have pressed 'sh.' "Shota.' Not 's' then 'h.'"  
  
Kida put her hand on her forehead. "That is what I deserve for learning both my language and yours at the same time."  
  
"Actually, you're not alone on that. Students who also wanted to learn to write English for fun would switch them. Besides, we're all tired."  
  
"Let us try that again." The procedure was restarted and Milo looked on as she typed it in correctly, each letter illuminating as it was pressed.  
  
"N. I. Sh. E. N."  
  
The illumination stayed, even when the levers were released.  
  
"Let's see what we've got here." Milo pushed up his glasses, and carefully turned the knob, only to hear it clicking. He paused, blinking, before turning to his wife. "You wind it up?" His hand still held on.  
  
"I do not think so. The crystal inside should power it. Perhaps it is a hybrid?"  
  
"I don't know." He continued to turn it several times before letting go. The box opened mechanically, to his surprise, the movement not as smooth as something running of crystal power.  
  
When the box opened, however, it was truly a beauty to behold. Patterns of Atlantean crystal lit and dimmed themselves in a slow, marvelous rippling sequence to chimes. The music was enchanting. Why anyone would need to put anything inside would be a mystery, for why, Milo wondered, would anyone want to hide a treat in something that already was? The chime's melody was entrancing enough he had to refrain from humming to it. It was only when he heard a note from someone else spellbound that he moved. The cartographer guessed it was either Audrey or Kida. Thinking past the music, he reached for the folded papers inside, their removal revealing even more intricate patters. He unfolded the first piece, viewing Atlantean handwriting. Milo read aloud.  
  
"'I pity them. They are so blind. When I introduced the concept to them I met with disapproval. Had I not said it was the order of Milo and Kida, I would have been ridiculed. Only then did they seem to agree. I did not want to lie, but today merely proved everything I knew correct. The people are still fools. I feel like a father to his young children. They do not know what is best for themselves. I pray in time they will learn to see this when I switch to the new system.' It's a journal." He sifted through and randomly drew another entry. "'I was afraid of this. Milo and Kida truly represent the people. They are just as naïve. They disapprove as well. They oppose me. I had never thought, when I started this, I would be hunting my own king and queen. Then again, I never believed I would have Rourke by my side as a guard. I still cannot trust him. I need a strong enforcer, but he is too dangerous. Threatening to kill someone when I first met him in that form has put me ill at ease. I do wonder if he has changed. Either way, I believe we are in a stalemate. I think he believes I can destroy him with the power I wield, so he has not dared any selfish act.' That explains quite a bit!" As affirmatives met his ears, he pulled the bottom paper and began to unfold it. The cartographer's eyes widened as he saw the forms upon the old parchments. "Blueprints!"  
  
A great shuffle of feet echoed in the room.  
  
"You can even see the meeneral eenlays for the creestalline circuitry een the stone."  
  
Milo ran his fingers over the words next to the pictures. "Oh, no. I can't read this."  
  
"What?!" Milo wondered if there was a single person who didn't say it.  
  
"I don't understand these terms. They're technical terms, I guess, for Atlantean engineers and mechanics thousands of years ago. It's Greek to me."  
  
"But you do know Greek, do you not?"  
  
"Just a sayin', miss," said the doctor.  
  
"Why don' we ask them mechanics who worked on it har?"  
  
"Most of them are dead, Cookie. Warin told me most of the people who worked on the casing died during construction. Apparently making it was dangerous in itself." Milo sighed at the thought of the mortalities.  
  
"If they were alive, we wouldn't need to be here. Plus they worked on it in sections. We couldn't get everything. Just a bit of the information." Audrey moved the blueprints closer to herself.  
  
"Though it would probably be unwise to take anything from this room, I believe we have little choice but to take the blueprints." Kida sighed heavily before adding, ".Though I doubt Kobdesheh will not notice someone was here."  
  
"I think you're right. If--"  
  
"I think I found a weaker spot, guys."  
  
"What? How did you--?"  
  
"What're ya pullin' outta your magic hat, girl?"  
  
"Hey, I'm a mechanic, not a magician, Sweet." She put a hand on her hip. "But... You look her. These connections for this side are different than the others. It's my guess these are the last connections, and they aren't reinforced as well. It'd only be reinforced on one side. Reminds me of an earlier model of a gas tank I worked on."  
  
"Jiminy Christmas! Audrey, you're a genius!" Milo took a closer look at the blueprints before folding them up and hiding them in the folds of a red shoulder sash of his garb. "Let's get these back. The sooner the better." The others followed as he reached the top of the stairs, cautiously knocking on the stone.  
  
Grinding, the door opened to reveal, ever so simply, the guard in the night. No shock awaited them, to Milo's relief. The sentry smiled and nodded, letting them pass back into the land of shadows.  
  
  
  
Based off the Disney Picture "Atlantis: the Lost Empire." The Name "Shards of Chaos" is property of Disney. The characters, "MUH-suh MIH-kee" and Khohbdesheh are my property, and I acknowledge I do not own the names. Fan fiction storyline also my property. Milo Thatch, Kidagakash, Bendoh, Rourke and other characters, names, concepts, and all Atlantean in this story are property of the Walt Disney Company. 


	5. CHAPTER 5: A Heart for a Heart

CHAPTER 5: A Heart for A Heart  
  
Hands clasped, Milo knelt. His eyes were closed in concentration as he lipped his words, putting himself at peace with Him. The king paused while deep in prayer, wondering what more he could hope for, what minor deed he felt needed forgiveness, perhaps.  
  
He again prayed for guidance and strength.  
  
"Milo! There you are!"  
  
Responding to the man's voice, the erudite man finished with a mental "amen," after once again praying for those he cared about.  
  
"Were you praying? My apologies to you! I only came to--"  
  
"No, it's okay, Warin. I was finishing up anyway." He stood upon the cold stone at the edge of the canal. The satchel weighed heavily upon his shoulder.  
  
"As you requested I came to tell you when Kida was in the temple."  
  
"Oh, thanks!" He snatched up his hunting mask in a hurry.  
  
"You are welcome," Milo heard the artisan hunter say as he flew past in the direction of the shrine.  
  
Rising before the armed scholar was soon one of the most ornate, most awe-inspiring buildings in the already unbelievable city. Even in the night the domes and towers sparkled as if with spiritual power, surely in part due to the occasional crystal embedded in the smooth stone. Milo entered through the great archway, its doors always open to all those that needed it.  
  
Inside the immense main chamber rows of people laid prostrate in fearful prayer to the Heart of Atlantis, hoping for its return. Many people pleaded. Some cried. An occasional worshipper would pause by a particular doorway and peer in, but continue with either their duties or their prayers. The king quietly paced over to it, sure of whom he would find.  
  
The slightly smaller chamber was even darker than the main hall, but that did not matter. A mystical beauty in its center softly lighted the room. A sound one could hear upon entering would be a low hum and the soft speech of a stream. Such a stream did flow under this temple on its way to the canal, and it was in rooms like this one there was a hole through which one could actually see the water. It was not the water by itself that was the beauty, however. The opening was such that a body could easily fit into it and wade waist deep in the slow-moving glowing waters, as many worshippers often did. It was true crystals had been carefully placed in the stone streambed, not only causing the celestial glow of the water, but also affecting other crystals that swirled above the surface. It was a magnificent, miniature galaxy of blue stars that would rise many feet above a bather's head.  
  
However, the chamber held one more beauty to Milo's eyes, ears, and heart.  
  
Kida knelt beside it, making graceful motions with her hands as she chanted her prayer. Her eyes were closed, and surely her gestures were to emphasize the words of her hymn to the Heart of Atlantis and to the spirits. The queen's skin was gently bathed in the glow from the stream and it tinted her dove-white hair a tranquil sapphire. Like him, she was clad in armor, her mask and spear lying beside her.  
  
As was common, Milo looked to her left hand, then to his that rested on the doorway. He did not feel he understood the symbols upon them until this moment. The man realized that not only did the ring and tattoo adorn the skin, but the tattoo's pigments ran deep, like their love for each other. By way of their rings were they connected to the Mother Crystal, and thus, to each other. It saddened Milo to see even those stones had turned a deathly red.  
  
The king yawned silently. "Why am I sleepy?" he wondered in thought. "I slept." Indeed, the entire team, plus Kida. Had found it necessary to rest during this unending night in preparation for what they must do.  
  
Milo looked back as his wife's hymn hit its powerful climax and simply stopped. Her body fell forwards as she fell into silent prayer. Only after several minutes did she rise, a lonely tear streaming down her face. With slow, sad notes she sung again, carefully reaching out to a single floating shard.  
  
As Milo expected, the sliver turned as red as their crystals with the touch. Mere contact with a person seemed enough to cause the crystals to receive information from Khobdesheh's gauntlet. Thus, the linguist had guessed correctly why she was not in the stream. The crimson crystal floated along with the others, a drop of blood among so many tears.  
  
He watched her bow by taking her crystal into both hands and holding it reverently in front of her face. Then she sighed into the darkness as she rose, wiping the tear away. It was then he realized his eyes, too, had watered at the thought of things to come. Rubbing them he quickly said to himself, "Okay, Milo, you have to be more assertive this time. She just can't do this. Don't take no for an answer."  
  
When he looked back, it was a mere second before Kida spotted him. She smiled peacefully and lovingly as she neared. He forced a smile back, taking her arm in his as they walked out of the temple. As soon as they were outside he inadvertently let his expression slip to one of concern.  
  
"What is wrong?" The huntress stopped and put her hand on his shoulder, being as perceptive as she was.  
  
The scholar hated to restart this but he had to. "Kida don't. do this! I can't let you."  
  
Her face grew serious, but not cold. "Milo, I must. There is no other choice."  
  
"No, there is! Let me go!"  
  
"We have already discussed this!" Some irritation hinted through her face and tone. "I have better skills than you. We cannot risk anything. Even Whitmore said-- What was it? That he had selected the best of the best for each field? As resourceful as you are, you would not fair well in such a fight!"  
  
Milo could not help but remember how badly Rourke had been beating him so many years ago on the gyro-evac. Had it not been for his wits, he truly would have died, failing everyone. ".But even you said I've improved!"  
  
"Yes, and I said you may well be a good hunter soon. I did not mean that was so now."  
  
"But the people need you Kida! You're their queen!"  
  
"And that leadership must fall to you. You are their king."  
  
"Representative only. You have thousands of years watching your father rule. You've been with the people a lot longer than I have." He put the satchel down as if it had been hurting his shoulder to carry it for so long.  
  
"Milo, you are intelligent, resourceful, and you care about them. You believe in them. You will be a wise king!"  
  
"But I'm not of royal blood! You are. What if the Crystal needs a host?"  
  
"What if the Heart of Atlantis is not freed at all due to our failure? If it requires a host immediately, and I still breathe, it shall take me." She looked away to some distant object.  
  
"But what if you're killed?!" the scholar pleaded and countered at the same time. "Or what if you don't return from the Heart of Atlantis? There would be no more hosts!"  
  
Kida turned back to face him, visage stern. "If you had been willing to perform the Binding of the Blood ritual, this would not be a problem!" She pressed her lips together until they were almost white, half in anger and half in sad anxiety.  
  
"Look, I was just doing what I thought was best at the time. There was no way I could know this would happen! It's beside the point now."  
  
The queen paused. ".The Nedakh dynasty will fall and the Thatch dynasty will begin. This matters not if the needs and wishes of our people are fulfilled," she said softly.  
  
"Yes it does! You're the one with the royal blood. We can't risk that! I'm not going to rule as well as you."  
  
"That is an opinion. You have said yourself that you could 'do anything you set your heart to.' Prove that statement right. If I do not go, I risk a more immediate future than risking there will be no host for the Heart. .Perhaps in time it will adapt to new blood."  
  
"Kida, I just can't let you die! I love you!"  
  
"Do you not think that is why I do not want you to go?!"  
  
The king inhaled for a response, but paused as he noticed a man standing behind Kida. The newcomer began to speak, using the pause to get in his words.  
  
"I am sorry to interrupt, but I bring a gift." The man clad in orange held out a bag that looked like it was probably made out of yeragos leather, judging from it's yellow and green hues. It was Kida who took it as he dropped to a knee to bow. "Do not touch what is inside with bare skin. Since the both of you returned we have prayed on this that we will all be returned to our normal way of life. It has been passed around the city from family to family. It reached them all like the news from the few on the outer rims who saw where the crystal was taken."  
  
Milo watched as she opened the bag carefully. From inside a small blue crystal floated into the air, hovering a couple feel above anything below it. Clearly it was a crystal from one of the temple stream pools, the shard still energized. It shone with vitality.  
  
"Thank you," replied the scholar.  
  
"May it be a guide on the journey," Kida responded as well.  
  
The man made a small but humble bow to both then addressed his queen. "We will always remember you."  
  
Kida smiled, and Milo prayed it would not be for the last time he would see that. "And when my journey has met its end, " she began, "my spirit will remember all of you." She used her other hand to enclose the bag overtop the shard.  
  
The newcomer smiled deferentially, bowed again, and left.  
  
As the warrior picked up the satchel and began to turn away, the linguist felt somewhere inside a voice howling at him to be more forceful wit her. "Kida!" He grabbed her by the arm, immediately realizing his mistake.  
  
".I suggest you let go of me." The growl in her voice underlined her warning.  
  
".Kida, I won't let you go. I can't let you go. Give me Vinny's bag. Let me do it!"  
  
She turned her face away as she sighed. "Milo, you said you were but a representative king, did you not?"  
  
"Yes, but what does that have to do--"  
  
The sudden increase in power in her voice would have surprised anyone. "Then I am of higher rank than you!" she glared. With a single sharp movement she pulled away. "Stand down!"  
  
Milo was left helpless, standing in shock. Everything he had learned in debate club years ago suddenly became worthless. He felt as if the energy had been sapped from his muscles by her harsh words. It was just then he realized what he dreaded in his marriage: they were having their first argument.  
  
His heart lifted slightly as he saw her turn her face quickly to the side, biting her lower lip. As her head moved, Milo thought he could see something shining like water leaving her face, possibly a single tear making itself known. She had not wanted to say that.  
  
"Kida I." Still the verbal blow had left him powerless in his own speech.  
  
The queen's words were quiet now as she faced away from him. "Worry not about me, Milo. I am the dead. I have been since I joined the hunters to protect the city." She put the pouch in the satchel.  
  
"You don't need to be. It's you're choice, Kida. Not some fate. Let me go."  
  
"Your life has been so short. You have a life before you, a life denied without the Heart. I have lived for so long comparatively."  
  
"Kida." He took her gently by the chin. "The Mother Crystal will let me live long, but." With soft brown eyes, he looked into hers. ".You're what I live for. If you die. We are the dead."  
  
"Milo.!"  
  
"No," he said quietly to her low protest. "Let me go. Give me the bomb."  
  
"No," the queen broke away. "You must go on. And I must make my journey. You are my spirit as much as I am yours."  
  
"Kida." He moved back toward her.  
  
"Stand down." She turned away again and donned her mask. It was like she stabbed him again. Milo realized there would be no way to convince her. "Just a few days after we were married you comforted me about my father. You said he would always be with us. Remember what you said. It can be applied in many ways. .Goodbye Milo Thatch. May our Spirits one day reunite."  
  
Before the king could respond the huntress flew like a bird, disappearing over rocks and ruins, perhaps to escape any decision to change her own mind.  
  
A wind blew the hymns of the people inside the temple to Milo as he stood alone.  
  
His hand formed a fist around his determination, drawing strength from it. He put on his mask and flew to where he might find Doctor Joshua Sweet.  
  
After several minutes he arrived in a crowded building, a little winded from the pole vaulting. "Sweet!" he yelled, taking off his mask. "I need you to do something for-- Vinny! What are you doing out of bed?!"  
  
"'Ey, I couldn't just ah lay around in bed while all this happened. Don't ah worry. I'm not fightin'."  
  
"Couldn't seem ta persuade him otherwise," Sweet sighed, "even though he still needs is rest." The physician looked up from his Atlantean patient to Audrey as she examined some papers.  
  
"I'm ah makin' some more bombs. The one worked pretty good against that vehicle. Tryin' to make em' just the same is the key. It was a personal mix of mine. It's ah art."  
  
"Sweet, I need you to arrange something for me. Do you know what group I was leading?"  
  
"For the distraction that's already started? Yeah. The main one. You need to be out there now, Milo."  
  
"I need someone else to lead it."  
  
"What?!" Audrey finally looked up from the plans. "Why?!"  
  
"I'm going after Kida. I can't let her go alone!"  
  
"Milo! That's crazy!"  
  
"You said that a couple of years ago, didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah, but I was right."  
  
"She won't let anyone else go with her!" he exclaimed in memory to the debate before his wife prayed. "She's going to get herself killed!"  
  
"Have you considered that she doesn't want to risk anyone else?"  
  
"Having even one more person would increase the chances someone will get to the Crystal!"  
  
"Not if it means getting caught because of more people."  
  
"But she could take her best hunter! It's just one! She--"  
  
"Milo." A giant hand was placed on the linguist's armored shoulder. "We know ya love her. We also know you wouldn't do something that would put the city in greater danger. Do what ya need ta do. It's your decision."  
  
"Okay, then. Do it, then."  
  
"'Ey, Milo, don't ah forget. When you connect the two wires, the bomb'll go off at twelve. I think I ah set it at five minutes before."  
  
"Thanks for the reminder, Vinny. I won't forget." The king lowered his mask into place. "Everyone wish me luck."  
  
As Milo began to rush off, he heard Vinny's voice. "Since you need it, we're ah going to wish you lotsa luck!"  
  
It was some time before Milo reached the fourth ring of the city. Even at this distance from the falls the humidity was greater. Along the horizon of the city it was easy to see the glow of its lava moat in the darkness. He only hoped he was going to the right location. Around the city one could see swarms of vehicles trying to engage the people. The king wished he knew where Khobdesheh was. Even here there had already been battle. Fires burned in many places. He scanned the land through the eyeholes of his bohodmok-like mask in search for his wife. Silently he bounded to a ledge to take a better look. The king's heart raced with the fear it might be too late.  
  
At a much lower elevation darted a large mass of animal hair with a spear, dashing from hiding place to hiding place amongst rocks and plants. Some fear flowed out of Milo by way of a quiet sigh to see just the furred back covering of Kida's mask. He looked further out to see her target: a faceted shape, the Atlantean designs upon it glowing furiously, the beams shooting through the cracks a powerful admonition.  
  
When she reached her destination, the queen did a quick check, trying to make sure she was alone. Milo ducked out of sight just in time, apparently, because when she looked back, she did not respond, having instead removed her mask. Kida began to examine the case, looking for the weakest spot. She placed a hand on one of the facets.  
  
Milo's fear again returned as the casing glowed much brighter with her touch, and even from this distance he could hear a hum as if from so many deep male voices erupt from it. Kida stepped back in surprise.  
  
In his fear Milo began to search for a way down without breaking his legs or worse. A large hole in the architecture of the ruins provided a glimmer of hope, and he jumped in. The moment he did so, a loud mechanical hum sounded overhead and bits of the blast wind that followed it licked at the opening to the dead end hole. The king peered out to see Kida prepare by grabbing her spear with both hands, still unmasked, as Khobdesheh in an Aktirak flew toward her and slowed. He felt lucky the ex-advisor did not notice him either. Milo slid down a fallen pillar, landing hard, but not with a thud louder than the vehicle, to a lower level. He limped with receding pain in search for a way down further.  
  
"Khobdesheh!" After the vehicle stopped, Kida's voice was quite audible. "You claim to help Atlantis, but you are killing our people as we speak! You have set the vehicles to shoot blindly!" she accused rightfully.  
  
"Those who threaten the empire will pose a threat no more! My followers, the ones who care for our survival, will live on."  
  
"You have no followers!"  
  
"I am sure I do. Any person who can see the clear logic of my words would certainly follow."  
  
"It is not logical to destroy our own people to find a possible select few!"  
  
"Then I assume you have not reconsidered my offer?"  
  
Milo's thoughts were echoed in his wife's words. "I will not be a tyrant!" He began to feel frustrated as time was passing without finding a way down.  
  
"A tyrant, no, but if that is what you wish. I offered my burden freely. I am sorry I had to take this city from you."  
  
"You have not abducted the people yet! Do you truly want them? Then come and collect them, Khobdesheh!" She readied her spear. "I will not let our way of life die in those claws!"  
  
Khobdesheh shook his head. The man with hair the color of the ashes now blowing in the wind thrust a clawed fist into the air. Both the king and queen were helpless as several vehicles flew from battle to their location, beginning to circle like vultures, their elevations varying fro one moment to the next. A remorseful look still on his visage, Khobdesheh motioned to the side, a nightmare once again appearing in blue and red light.  
  
"YOU!" The linguist could actually perceive Kida's muscles tense with the fury of seeing Rourke.  
  
"Surely you did not think I left our Heart without a protector?" Khobdehseh responded.  
  
"Not a very nice way to greet someone." The ex-commander's buzzing tone took Milo by some surprise.  
  
"MURDERER!" Kida unleashed her energy, speeding toward him with full force.  
  
The man with the armored hand's voice was slightly muffled as the linguist tried a crack with no luck. "You do remember the plan?" For insurance, he manipulated his arm to move the imprisoned Crystal to the top of a pair of ruined monorail tracks, abandoned since ancient times.  
  
A buzz that seemed irritated replied, "I didn't get to be a commander shelling peanuts instead of creating strategies!"  
  
When Milo emerged from the next fissure, he gasped at what he saw. As Khobdesheh simply watched from his Aktirak, the clash began, the ex- advisor becoming an emperor at a gladiator match. The king blinked as the armored hand was clenched, seeing the vehicles do nothing new. Only after a few seconds did the dimming of his immediate surroundings alert Milo to the very dimming of his own crystal, a simple dying ember. He knew immediately he would be able to heal no one. Shooting his vision back at Kida, he noted hers, too, was growing dark. The king felt a need to call out to his wife, but he knew any distraction might be deadly.  
  
Kida struck with an enraged yell, using her voice to put more power in her body. Rourke dodged the first swing, the huntress's eyes widening in surprise. It was clear he had taken notable effort on his part to dodge the blow. She jumped out of the way when a crystalline fist came at her abdomen. With her spear she vaulted back, then charged as fast as her legs could carry her.  
  
To Milo's amazement, Rourke began to smile as he stood his ground, Kida tearing toward him. The warrior's aim was true, the metal point of her spear striking exactly were his heart would have been. The crystal entity took a single step backward to steady himself against the impact, but continued to smile with the spear lodged in a crack in his chest. A blue energy began to travel up the spear tip. When Kida realized this, she broke her own weapon and step away as the still-lodged piece crystallized.  
  
"Nice try, Princess-- Oh, yes, it's 'queen' now, isn't it?" Rourke pulled the end of the spear from his chest, tossing it aside as he mocked her. The piece shattered with a magnificent crash into a thousand blue stars.  
  
"I WILL NOT LET YOU THREATEN MY PEOPLE AGAIN!" Her blow with the still-remaining bludgeon-end was blocked.  
  
"Threaten?" Rourke rung mockingly, trying to punch her again. "I'm providing a service to your city."  
  
"DEATH IS NO SERVICE!" Kida slammed her spear downward towards Rourke's head. Fear flooded Milo as he saw the man catch the weapon in his fist. He knew what was about to happen, and even more frantically he searched for a way to reach her.  
  
Rourke grinned confidently as the warrior recovered from the recoil. With a faceted hand he grabbed another part of the broken spear and manipulated it so her weapon, while still in her hands, struck her own face. She landed a few feet away, and Rourke tossed her spear aside.  
  
"Have to hand it to you, Queenie, you've been a bit of a challenge, but all good things must come to an end." As she began to turn over, he approached, a crystalline foot above her face.  
  
A moment before he stomped, Kida rolled out of the way, somersaulting to retrieve her spear. "All things must! Not only the good!" she roared as she got to her feet.  
  
"Well, since you put it that way." He glanced down, realizing where his foot had hit created a crystallized area. A faceted plant was now breaking under its own weight, and a pleased look appeared on the crystal man's face. With that he threw himself at her, forcing Kida back as she dodged and defended. Within seconds Milo saw the two on a thin ledge. A few shrinking feet behind Kida was a long narrow pillar, fallen perhaps not so long ago, and about a third of it was hanging over the edge. The scholar could only guess how far down it was.  
  
Rourke pushed her back onto the wrecked support, stepping onto it, himself. With sheer contact the stone pillar began to crystallize. The queen's eyes were wide as she continued to step back from the crystal, almost slipping off the broken end of the pillar. She gawked as she looked down for a brief moment.  
  
"Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide."  
  
Kida looked down at his feet, some revelation apparent. Using the remaining part of the pillar, she charged, bludgeon-end forward. Rourke found it all too easy to sidestep her, since her aim was not directly at him. She found a place to plant the butt end of her spear and vaulted, swinging her body so as to make sure she did not spring away from the ledge and the pillar. A blue glow began to crawl up the spear already, having touched Rourke's spreading crystal. The huntress landed hard and scrambled to her feet, raising the crystallizing spear above her head. Mightily she slammed it down on the crystallizing part of the pillar before throwing it away.  
  
A great crack began to cut through the crystal, a detail Rourke noticed. As the pillar was breaking, the crystal entity tried to run for the safety of the ledge, but he was unable to jump the gap that grew between the end of the pillar and it.  
  
Milo sighed with relief as Kida peered over the edge, clearly hopeful. The relief died suddenly when his wife turned and began to run. She stopped at the base of the ruins of the monorail tracks, evidently wondering how to get up to the Crystal on one of the parallel lines.  
  
A Turtak swooped, diving past the ledge. The king noticed Khobdesheh rise in his vehicle as well. Within seconds the Turtak appeared again, carrying a still-living Rourke. From a broken-off right arm energy spilled, a blade-like shard protruding as a long trough for the fiery sparks. The vehicle let him off, several new streaks of red light gleaming from the now greater number of cracks as he moved.  
  
When Kida heard him coming, she did the only thing she could: try and climb a support for the monorail. Being straight up, clear of stable vines and worn smooth by millennia of rains, she found herself unable to scale it with what she had. Rourke grabbed at the satchel and tore her from her insufficient grip on the fragile vegetation. Like a toy he swung her by it, the woman flying when she slipped away from the shoulder strap. Kida crashed against a wall, the air in her lungs noisily fleeing on impact. She fell limply to the ground. Her body did not move save for her white hair. It moved in the wind like wings.  
  
"KIDA!!!!!" Milo ran for the edge, not caring about the drop, but only getting to his true love. Something inside him felt like it was destroyed. The king vaulted off the ledge, but the ground below was unforgiving. A sharp fire ran up his legs on impact, and he fell to the ground in pain, his legs stunned at least and now numbed with tingling. He looked up as best he could, a trial in his oversized mask. Rourke and Khobdesheh were looking straight at him, but the latter only momentarily. The ex-advisor lowered and jumped from the vehicle.  
  
"The plan was to disable, not to kill her!"  
  
"Look. Plans change. You have to learn to be more flexible, Khob." Rourke looked back to the man with a gauntlet, intimidated by Milo's presence, and dropped the satchel. He began to walk toward Khobdesheh.  
  
"I should have trusted my doubts about you! Your spirit has not changed!" He put his face close to Rourke's and dared to growl, a mistake. "I have seen enough!"  
  
"You know, as of now, so have I." Smiling, Rourke grabbed at the stone glove to bring him near. Mightily he slashed with his broken arm, and the advisor cried out in anguish as he dangled. The crystal man dropped him to the ground, put a foot on his chest, and pulled the gauntlet off with his remaining hand. Milo saw why the ex-advisor had cradled it. As the gasping Khobdesheh curled around the crystallized gash in his torso, he brought a pale, withered arm around himself to try to dull the death pangs.  
  
Rourke continued. "I think I know all I need to know. I just want to thank you for your hospitality, Khob. You managed to bring me back. Provided me with a new way to bring back that crystal. Finally get what's coming to me. Even as an added bonus, I get to pay back some old friends of mine." He motioned to the warrior while the king struggled with numb legs. Rourke was beginning to walk over to inspect Kida.  
  
Milo looked back to his wife. She laid there, so still, so peaceful, so beautiful to him. He swallowed hard in-between breaths, tears forming. He felt he had failed her.  
  
The king looked back to Rourke, and a great power surged though him. It was almost a need, a feeling so strong he briefly wondered if it came from some source beyond his body. The force burned with the rage of fire and was as unstoppable as a tidal wave. Like wind it howled through his body and spirit, unyielding as the earth. Only once before had he felt his will rise within him so, a will that would not be denied, but never did he feel it so strong. His muscles trembled as it rushed through his veins. Not just a people was being threatened, but his people. What his eyes beheld as the world's most precious, most beautiful thing lay still at the feet of a murderer. He breathed quickly and deeply with his teeth clenched, gripping like death onto his spear.  
  
The man would not let this get worse. "This isn't over yet.!" he breathed.  
  
Milo stumbled to unsteady feet, readying his spear.  
  
"Lanky legs, thin arms. I'd recognize you no matter what clown suit you wear, Thatch." Rourke put the gauntlet aside for a moment, obviously seeing using it as too easy.  
  
The linguist cried out as he lunged, a hit easily blocked.  
  
"Not bad. Several years ago I might have actually felt that." Milo felt himself being held, his own mask now a harness. "Come on out." He found himself slipping out of his mask, now unprotected and unhindered by it. The scholar leapt awkwardly away from a swing of the bladelike arm, cobalt and crimson sparks flying like water in the air.  
  
The power inside Milo seemed to tear him from the inside in an attempt to get out. Furiously he let it escape, cracking Rourke's shoulder with the club of his weapon, several slivers of crystal flying. The ex- commander emitted some indescribable noise, but, surprisingly, it did not seem to be a cry of anguish, but rather, a grunt.  
  
The anger contagious, Rourke slashed, the power inside the king moving him far enough out of the way for skin to avoid the blade. His armor was not so lucky, the strap to the shoulder protector sliced through. Milo's next move was enough to shake it off.  
  
The scholar glanced to the side, noticing Vinny's bag. He evaded the punch by sheer luck as he dove for it, putting it on at once. Immediately he tried to block a punch with an arm protector, receiving a nasty surprise. Milo found his own arm impacting his chest as the armor clacked with the hit, causing him to move backward with the utter force of the blow. He barely kept his footing when he landed on what he realized was a piece of monorail track, long ago fallen to make a ramp. The king's heart lifted with hope as he looked back, only to remember it was the wrong track to reach the Mother Crystal.  
  
Either way it did not matter. Like Kida before him, he found himself being forced back, dodging as best he could and trying to divert rather than fully block blow again.  
  
"Well, I guess I have you to thank for all this, Mr. Thatch. Sure, being a crystal's a pain, literally, but it sure has its plusses!" Rourke increased his attack, forcing Milo to flee the rest of the way up. Both above and below he saw vehicles flying, still waiting for an order. It was then he realized a fall from there would be deadly in itself.  
  
Looking to the side, the king found himself at the closest spot to the Crystal, so near, but out of jumping distance, especially for him. He could hear the footsteps like breaking glass. In his momentary distraction by the proximity of the Crystal, Milo found himself grabbed by the neck and pulled close. "I see they've been markin' you up already." The king dared to ready for a swing, breathless as Rourke indicated the tattoo on his shoulder. "Might as well add one of my own!"  
  
Milo felt himself being lifted higher, the weight of his body heavy on his neck. He watched as Rourke's broken arm became a blur, the mixture of spilling sparks making a trail of movement.  
  
Unbelievable pain surged through the linguist's body as he was slashed in-between the ribs. The wound burned like fire-inspiring lava as he was thrown back onto the track. Milo stumbled to a stop, his spear alone letting him keep his balance. Blinking, he looked down in disbelief.  
  
The wound was bright blue, crystallizing at a decelerating pace.  
  
He then looked back to Rourke, an image so odd for a reason he could not quite comprehend. As the scholar wavered, he thought he was hearing voices.  
  
"Milo!!! MILO!!!!!" He looked to the source of the anguished, labored voice. A white-haired woman lying next to a wall struggled to even move, stretching out a desperate arm.  
  
"What the--"  
  
"Kida.!" The king could not believe his eyes. His wife was alive. He looked back down at his wound, shaking his head to bring back his mind. Rourke had been distracted by her, a fact that Milo knew he must take advantage of. His mind raced faster than even his heart. The linguist removed the bomb in sudden realization, an incredible light. He remembered what Vinny had said in the gourd house. He set the time for twelve and stuffed the yeragos pouch between the sticks of dynamite. Even now he could feel his strength fading, fatigue flowing through him. Yet the power of his will still surged, and it fueled his person. Quickly he connected the wires, activating a now ringing bomb. The king of scholars, thinking a prayer, hurled it at the Crystal's prison. He turned to face his spouse as time for him began to slow.  
  
The cartographer watched the bomb fly through the air, slowly, beautifully.  
  
"NO!!!" Angrily Rourke slammed Milo, who fell on his rear many feet away, luckily still on the track. In hopes to save himself, Rourke dove after the projectile. The arrogant grin had melted with a crackle to a look of fear. Whirring in protest, he lifted his good arm in a vain attempt to bat it to the ground, away for the Crystal.  
  
The bomb exploded with a deafening blast. Milo, as he wobbled to his feet, felt the heat of the shockwave. Bits of debris burned his skin. The light of the Mother Crystal fell red upon the already breaking Rourke, who was shrieking a pain-riddled buzz. Along old-remaining fault-lines where he had been originally shattered he fell apart again. Each dropping shard hit the ground with a note, making music until they came to rest. When all was still, the shards powdered, leaving diamond dust blowing in the wind.  
  
Milo staggered backward as he saw her struggle to rise. A peaceful smile appeared on his countenance. He wanted to tell her one more time. He needed to tell her. The king could not find the breath to speak, but his will was reflected in the precision with which he lipped his words and the expression of his face, his love giving him strength and gentleness. "I love you, Kida. Always." Unmercifully the time came when his muscles could not work on will alone. His body would not let him do more, and he fell to his knees. Painfully he tried to stand, but found himself unable to do more than plant a foot. He wanted so much to stay with his wife, but he knew his actions enabled her to stay. He smiled to her one more time before he fell from the tracks, his eyes still glittering with life. Milo heard her cry out in the sluggish heartbeat of time. All the colors and contrasts were strange as he saw her stretch out her arm again as if in hopes to catch his soul.  
  
. . .  
  
"MILO!!!!!" The queen was helpless to watch. She saw him fall into one of the slowly declining vehicles, being deposited on top of some ruble as it overturned with his weight.  
  
The woman sank her teeth into her lower lip as she managed to rise, muscles shaking. Kida ran to him, the energy of her desperation accelerating her every step. The strength of her spirit was a god-like force placing power in her stride. The pain of her body was nothing compared to the agony of her heart. With all her power she ripped the once- again-blue shard of crystal from her necklace with a snap and fell beside him in a heap, for her grace was gone.  
  
Like her emotions, tears overwhelmed her. There was no time to check for a pulse, no time to check for breathing, as every second was infinitely precious. She tried as best she could to tear away the crystal barrier that covered his wound. Only when she could see fused flesh did she scrape her crystal in between her husband's ribs. She then clutched her crystal to her pounding heart in short, hurried prayer. In her fist the broken crystal glowed through the crystal dust and bits of blood, through the flesh of her hand, and endowed her lower limb with its energies. Feeling the soothing ice of it, she thrust her hand onto Milo's chest, pressing with all her might. Pulling her hand away she saw the cerulean glow of her handprint disappear, yet the wound was barely healed.  
  
Eyes wide in even greater consternation, she again executed the maneuver, but to little effect. Repeatedly she did so, and as the Crystal was restoring the feeling of life in her body, the strength of her form was being depleted, everything going to the process of healing her husband. After many tries, the wound finally closed. A great scar now marred his ribcage, some care having been sacrificed to speed. "Milo! Milo!!!" Kida sobbed, but the man did not respond to her words, only to lay there, eyes closed. "No!" she voiced in an unsteady whisper. "This cannot be!" Painfully she grasped her crystal, filling her numbing hand with its energies once again, then placing it over his heart and thrusting downward with the last of her power.  
  
"No!" She collapsed over his body, weeping sapping even the tiniest reserves of energy she possessed. "Please! Stay, Spirit! I love you!" Like the fires around them her tears burned as they ran down her face and onto Milo's skin. The queen could not believe he was dead.  
  
Complete exhaustion of mind and body plus her grief began to take its toll. The subconscious began to conquer her mind. Vivid memories of their past together, from the first time she had healed him to the words he lipped to her so long and so short a time ago. So many pleasant memories to look back on, but such a short time they had been together. Even a half- forgotten dream reappeared, one in which he was telling her for some reason, "Everything will be okay."  
  
The intensity of the plight continuously ripped her away from her inner, perfect world, constantly shedding light on the fact her husband lay fallen beside her. Kida's heart felt like it would burst with the pressure of her own tears. "Why am I alive?! I accepted my fate. This was not his!"  
  
A strange sensation overcame her. New images appeared. It was immediately clear she stood upon a Stone Giant, the winds cool and calming. The huntress somehow expected the feeling of the hand on her shoulder and turned, suddenly amazed to see Milo there smiling to her. She embraced him immediately, and his voice came to her in soft tones. "KEE-duh-toap, SOH- lesh MAH-toh-noat. (Kida, all will be well.)"  
  
A second wave of sobs awakened her anew to the burning world around her, to the feeling of Milo's warm clothes beneath her face. It had only been a delusion.  
  
The queen felt his body move beneath her. "If only I could believe it to be true." She looked up to the sky of Atlantis. The lava, fires, and even the blazing glow of the Mother Crystal atop the tracks reddened its sky. Ruby search beams began to stream forth from it as it searched for a host.  
  
Kida thought of how much he had done for her people, even making sure everyone knew to be away from this area unless they were fighting to insure minimal casualties. He had done so much to save Atlantis, the city owing its survival now twice to him. The queen knew they must rebuild this small section of the city, along with whatever other damage had accumulated. She knew she must be strong yet a part of her asked how she could be.  
  
Deep inside, Kida felt as if her spirit were dying.  
  
  
  
Based off the Disney Picture "Atlantis: the Lost Empire." The Name "Shards of Chaos" is property of Disney. The characters, "MUH-suh MIH-kee" and Khohbdesheh are my property, and I acknowledge I do not own the names. Fan fiction storyline also my property. Milo Thatch, Kidagakash, Bendoh, Rourke and other characters, names, concepts, and all Atlantean in this story are property of the Walt Disney Company. 


	6. CHAPTER 6: The Binding of the Blood

CHAPTER 6: The Binding of the Blood  
  
It was indescribable. The darkness seemed to settle, and Milo could feel weight again. All was still very vague to him. Through his eyelids the world reddened from its ebony state. The air seemed to refreshing. The king wondered where he was. It would feel so wonderful just to sleep here, for he felt so tired. There the scholar lay, trying just to feel.  
  
Sluggishly, Milo lifted his head and opened his eyes. The world was hazy, discolored, still affected by a lack of air. Slowly the world sharpened, taking on proper hues. The world was bathed in a crimson light by something that would take much more effort to remember in addition to what was most important at the moment. A white, fluffy thing lay on his chest, one arm clad in fur, the other in chitin. And he knew. So easy it was to know this, to remember this.  
  
He lifted his arm. It felt so heavy, but he did not care. Lovingly he stroked his wife's wet cheek. She placed a hand on his, as if wanting no more than such a simple caress. Kida paused, then raised herself off of him, the look of quiet disbelief apparent. Her face was so pale. Freed from her weight, he turned, his pain causing him to grimace.  
  
".Milo.?"  
  
"Uhh! Huh!" he gasped the syllables through the agony.  
  
"MILO!" Tears of joy washed away her tears of anguish as color came back into her face. As he tried to sit up, clutching his ribs, the queen threw her arms around him.  
  
"Ahhh! Ohh!" Milo's breathing was labored. "Sorry I worried you so much." He managed to smile, finding even that hurt. His words and burns were still quite serious.  
  
"Moakh GAH-nesh-kik dakh!"  
  
"I love you too, Kida. So much." It felt so wonderful to feel her beside him again. Milo weakly hacked out a laugh.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah. It's funny."  
  
"It is funny?!" Kida quickly began to examine his head with her hands.  
  
"No." The scholar took his hands in hers. "It's like in those kid's stories. Like fairytales. How love is the greatest power? I always wondered if that were absolutely true."  
  
His wife cocked her head. "What is a 'FAIR-ee-tale?'"  
  
Milo coughed out another chuckle. "It's when people live happily ever after." With that statement he released her hands and reminded himself of the elation he could feel just by wrapping his arms around her.  
  
The sound of many footsteps met their ears and they turned. There to greet them were the faces of those they loved and protected. Amongst the faces of so many Atlanteans Audrey, Sweet and Vinny stood. Mole and Cookie walked beside. Even Packard, taking a long inhalation through her cigarette, stepped up. All looked to the freed Mother Crystal, and a cheer could be felt in the air. The couple watched and laughed at the rest of the team's surprise when they were lifted into the air.  
  
Quickly, however, the crowd swept toward them. Milo could hear Sweet's warnings not to pick either of them up, since they looked hurt, but that did not hinder the crowd. The couple found themselves being tossed into the air, soaring into the heavens, it seemed, before they were caught. The king was surprised by their care. Though painful, it was bearable somehow in the way they did it. Euphoria filled them all and the group found themselves cheering for one another and their fellow Atlanteans.  
  
A young Atlantean, one who looked to be biologically in his teens to Milo, called forth, a few others cheering with him. "Let us forget this terrible time! May we erase all traces of these events!"  
  
"NO!" Milo and Kida shouted together, stopping to smile at each other.  
  
"There's a saying in my culture. 'Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.' Khobdesheh repeated history. Let's just make sure our descendants don't make the same mistakes we do. Just destroy the remains of the case and the blueprints so they can't be used again. Right, Kida? .Kida?"  
  
Through the quieting shouts and whistled a silence came. The queen looked silently at the Crystal as it sent out its crimson beams.  
  
"No," the king began, quietly shaking his head. "Kida, no.!"  
  
".It wants to be moved. It must be moved." Her people lowered her.  
  
"No!" She turned back to face him. "Kida." He reached out an aching hand. "I just got you back.!"  
  
She looked back at him, a truly touched look on her face. "We both know I must do this. I am the only one. Be not afraid, Milo. I will return." The queen stepped close, and she stroked his cheek with gentle fingers. In soft, smooth tones she added, "No matter what, I will always be with you."  
  
There was no argument this time, no way to argue. All he could do was watch as she quickly removed her armor, a sign of respect, for clearly she did not need it under the protection of the Crystal. She looked down to her pendant, and a shocked expression went through her face, temporarily. Milo, too, was surprised to see the shard had been snapped off. Kida then looked to the ground and it seemed she knew exactly where it was, making the linguist wonder if the queen had already known it was broken. She snatched it up in a hurry. Kida then walked into the path of a beam, holding the crystal in an open palm. A soft smile appeared on her face as her eyes closed and her head rose, spreading her arms in readiness. The beam fell upon her, and the single shard floated upward, fusing with the remaining bits of crystal in her necklace to become whole once more. Her body notably relaxed as the beam changed the hue of her skin from that of fire to water. Her crystal hovered in front of her. The host paused, face expressionless, as if communicating or receiving orders. Like three years earlier, she turned to look at Milo, eyes illuminate by the Crystal itself. From her came the echoed, cryptic voice the man had heard but once before.  
  
"GAHN SEH-kleh-nuhg MOH-kit WAH-neh-goh-nik. (I will watch you again long ago.)"  
  
Milo blinked, confused. "What?" He wondered if the integration between the Crystal and Kida's body was flawed this time, somehow. Additionally, he mused as to which being said it, Kida or the Crystal.  
  
Unresponding, Kida turned away mechanically like a living puppet. With rhythmic precision she made her way up the fallen monorail track, bathed in blue light in a world still scarlet. Standing precisely where Milo had been earlier, she stopped and turned toward the Heart of Atlantis. Even from there he could see Kida's shoulders rise with breath. From where she stood the horizontal beam intensified into a narrow shaft of brilliant light onto her crystal. As a cerulean halo surrounded her, Kida's hair flew back as her body took the full force of the energy.  
  
Slowly Milo saw her form float, her feet limply sliding off the edge of the track, as she was pulled seemingly by her torso to the Mother Crystal. Initially, taken into the cool fires of the star, she appeared as a silhouette within. A burst of light melted into Kida's flesh, giving her an almost ghostly appearance. As before, the king and those around him had to shield their eyes as best they could as they watched, the spinning form without the King Stones to block the glare. A whirr and a wind came from the transformation, stirring the ash into small whirlwinds and driving it away. Milo remembered how Kida had described to him how she felt her muscles weaken and lose shape before, and she bent at the whim of its power, being unable, though not desiring, to protest with muscle or bone. He looked on as a great gravity seemed to pull everything inward into a brilliant, slender, and featureless shape  
  
Soon, nevertheless, the form began to slow, a single, fluid shard taking the form of his wife. She appeared there as blue liquid glass, a brightness emanating from her in such a way Milo wondered if the greater intensity was his own imagination adding beauty to his love or the Crystal celebrating its freedom.  
  
The entity spread its arms as its hair flowed, and the intricate design work of the track became canals for its energies. Thus did the Mother Crystal call for its "children."  
  
In the distance appeared a procession, smoothly and swiftly moving toward the Crystal. The eleven King stones wrapped around the Heart of Atlantis, surrounding it as they always had. With their return, Kida's form rose, putting her arms at her sides and hair streaming downward. The Crystal reclaimed its place at the distant center of the city. With an even greater radiance Milo heard the falls roar louder, and the resulting steam clouds grew large.  
  
To his astonishment and worry, the linguist watched search beams again search the city, without having first returned his wife. The blue beams would stop suddenly, narrow, and in their widening a glimmer would show itself traveling down the shaft.  
  
"Please, let me down!" As great as his pain, Milo felt anxious enough he felt he needed to stand.  
  
A great cluster of beams neared. The first hesitated briefly over the fallen body of Khobdesheh, then move on, as if in realization he had died. The beams slowly stopped on many members of the crowd. When one shone on the king, he looked to its source, amazed. Into his field of vision floated his own crystal. He felt a familiar presence, somehow.  
  
The beam narrowed and the flash blinded Milo. The sheer power forced the breath from his lungs, and, in order to try to stand it, his fists clenched, coiled fingers up, at his the waist. The surge was a feeling indescribably more intense than that of adrenaline. Breathing hard, he opened his eyes. He was suddenly aware of a floating sensation, and he looked down, finding his feet were, indeed, off the ground. Glancing around he saw others of his people experiencing the same phenomenon, save one detail. Whereas they simply hovered off the ground, Milo continued his accent upward, and the beam itself moved closer to the center of the city as he rose.  
  
The view, as always, was breathtaking, but the king did not dwell on it for long, especially when he reached the clouds. Something was glittering down the shaft toward him. As it neared Milo saw they were actually crystal shards of varying sizes and shapes. A single one zipped almost excitedly ahead of the rest, speeding around the king as if in examination before floating to his face. It closed slowly in between his eyes in a curious manner. The others arrived and surrounded him in a cloud of crystal fragments. He felt tiny pressures and bursts of energy, flashes accompanying the healing of each wound. Intense, sharp pain in his torso caused him to shout. Milo looked down and saw where his scar had been, crystals squeezing the re-opened wound closed, and the first shard whizzing down to heal it properly.  
  
Slowly the crystals began to return to their mother, but the one lingered, zooming around the man's head momentarily. It moved towards his face abruptly, causing him to jerk backwards. The sliver seemed to gesticulate, twirling a few seconds before coming to touch the side of his face, healing the insignificant scratch that remained on his cheek. Then in a spiraling upward motion it chased after the others. Milo watched it leave, wondering with affection about the playful shard.  
  
He felt a slight breeze, and he realized he was being lowered to a new location through the steam, one he recognized as the plaza. Milo was set down lightly before the beam vanished and his crystal fell. He stumbled, feeling as if he had been swimming for hours and his form had somehow grown heavy.  
  
Milo looked up to the clouds he descended from to see a new ray of blue light penetrate it, all the rest having already disappeared. His heart soared infinitely higher than he had just been as he saw a figure descend, white hair catching the wind like feathered wings. Asleep she came, and Milo stood ready with open arms, familiar with what to do. As Kida's toes brushed the ground, he held her by her shoulders, ready to brace her against himself when the crystal let go. Ever so gently the Heart of Atlantis released her, and the feeling of holding his wife in his arms was a treasure greater than any. She rested limply with her head tilted back against his arm.  
  
Thus Milo looked at his wife. Her eyes tenderly closed, her soft layered hair, the pure blue markings adorning the features of her bronzed face were so much more precious than jewels to him. Then his eyes rested on her lips and he pressed his together, habitually moistening them. Slowly the king lowered his face toward hers in awe that he would be able to kiss her again. His heart met the heavens as he lovingly did so, and then pulled away to look at her again.  
  
The queen's eyes fluttered open and she smiled, having been awakened in such a enjoyable way. Eyes half-closed, she gently said, "TREH-net MOH- kit THUH-rih-mikh. ('I told the truth to you,' or, in this context, 'I told you so.')" Kida straightened but put her head on his shoulder.  
  
Softly Milo chuckled, but stopped as he remembered back. "Do. you remember what you said? Or did?"  
  
"No. It took perhaps a year the last time--" She suddenly grew quiet, raising her head. A surprised expression was shone as her fingers went to her right ear, carefully touching the empty hole in her earlobe. Her eyes widened as she smiled warmly in joy. ".She accepted it."  
  
Kida turned her eyes back to his fair face, and he smiled back in understanding as he embraced her. Like the earrings, they were together now.  
  
. . .  
  
Milo looked in the mirror, face covered again in blue markings. He dipped his hands in the sink and washed his face, putting his glasses back on immediately. He glanced back up before scratching his itching face, the markings still on them. "Why did I agree to that? I said I'd never have it done. Now look at yourself, Milo." The king took some salve and rubbed it into his skin to relieve the itching, something he could not avoid no matter how the tattoos were healed. He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to Doctor Sweet for the cream.  
  
"Milo!" There was a knock on the door to the bathroom. "Hurry! It is about to start!"  
  
"Coming, Kida!" The linguist closed the small container and slipped it into the sash intricate formal garb after giving Fluffy a quick pet goodbye. He grabbed his truncheon and stepped out, only to find his arm grabbed by his delighted wife, cloth flowing from her arms.  
  
"We must not miss this!"  
  
Had Milo not been paying more attention to the placement of his feet, he would have tripped when he agreed whole-heartedly. Together they sped out of the palace. The crowd did not mind the couple slipping through to the front where they were expected by the rest of the crew, waiting the great procession with expectant smiles.  
  
The morning was quiet for the most part and gently lit by the Mother Crystal above. The air was fresh, clean, and damp from the recent rains, the smell of damp earth and plant life a perfume that came with the mists. Even then the sound of laughter of children could be heard, playing with joy and hope for their futures. The laughter caused Milo's grin to broaden, for it reminded him of when he was a young boy, and the jubilant memories of the past filled his heart.  
  
Through it all began the beat of a drum, the continuously faster rhythm awakening the day. Looking down the wet street, the procession started in a grand display of music, color and dance.  
  
Not since the celebration he saw three years ago had he seen such intricacy in everyone's garb, though his outfit was quite different from the tunic he wore then.  
  
Flowing garments, especially ones with capes, were the staple of the parade. Every dancer was a music maker, for strung on their wrists, ankles, and to the bottoms of any gangling cloth were shells, chimes, and bells. The most common pattern in the clothing was naturally that of crystal design.  
  
Even animals made themselves known. Bahodmoks, stepping like horses, made their way under the playful eyes of their owners. Young children rode the ostich-like wemots in a whimsical fashion. Most magnificent were the "Regal Yeragos," a specially bread species. With broad wings that had membrane protrusions resembling flimsy feathers but short, unspiked tails, they made awkward fliers, but as displays they were the grandest creatures with wings in Atlantis. Their wings were cape like, and they held their heads high and proud with their long necks, adorned with four crests rather than the one flowing back from the head. Golden, amber and topaz in color, they perched with one foot on each shoulder of their owner and spread their wings, looking as if they would take off with them. They certainly seemed large enough to do so.  
  
As the procession came through, Milo found himself like the rest of the crowd, clapping, chanting and stamping to the jovial song, his enthusiastic crooked grin bright upon his face.  
  
A sound of surprise beside him turned the cartographer's head, and he saw one of the dancers pull Audrey into the parade. He laughed, only to find it reoccurring to other members of the team. Kida was quickly grabbed, and giggling, she in turn grabbed Milo. The dancers quickly organized them into lines, the act awkward in being impromptu. The scholar watched, a little uncoordinated in trying to copy their moves. Utter excitement overtook him as he joined in. He looked to his wife. Smiling, she held her head high, not in pride, but in complete exhilaration. They glowed like the sun's fire, the world a prism to catch their light and create rainbows of joy. Faces shining, they all sang in celebration.  
  
The procession hit a grand finale and stopped in front of the palace. Kida was the first to break the remarkable silence.  
  
"Milo, are you ready?"  
  
The erudite man swallowed hard. "I. I guess."  
  
"You do know what to do, do you not?"  
  
"I, well."  
  
"You did not read about it?!"  
  
".No, I was reading about the hydro-farming techniques used by ancient Atlanteans. I thought it would be more useful."  
  
The queen shook her head, a smile replacing the look of surprise. "You put the people before a ceremony involving yourself." She put her hand on his arm. "You will make a very good king. Now, follow me."  
  
Milo was used to his wife grabbing him by the wrist, but was surprised to find it thrust into the air.  
  
"The time has come!" she cried to all, punctuating it by tapping her staff on the ground. To the man's amazement, the crowd exploded into cheer. Even they knew more than he.  
  
A small boy cut through the crowd to them both and held out a large bowl containing crystal dust and small, shining slivers in a watery solution. The linguist watched carefully, seeing his wife coat her right palm in the water-crystal solution, shards sticking up like ice crystals. Milo began to do the same, only to find his hands manipulated by his wife, who indicated he should coat the left palm. The man found the mixture cool and somehow soothing. Kida took some extra, indicating her husband should not.  
  
The queen stood and held her palm out, and Milo paused, thinking she meant to stop. She motioned with her head, and he realized he was to put his hand to hers. The huntress raised her hand to her face, and the linguist did the same, making sure to keep his palm pressed to hers. In the process of this, they took a step toward each other. When she pressed harder, he pushed back, feeling the shards poke quite uncomfortably into his skin.  
  
With an abrupt motion Kida pressed forward and down, he hand sliding away with painful consequences. "Ahh!" Milo cried out, cradling his hand. Though he could not tell through the faint glow of the crystal solution, he knew it had cut him like course sandpaper. The man could feel the flow of blood underneath. He looked to his wife, who held her wrist and bit her lip while staring at her hand. It had clearly hurt her too. When Kida noticed his gaze she looked up to smile, a relief to Milo that something had not just gone wrong.  
  
The crowd moved aside as the queen sprinted the short distance to the vine-riddled walls of the palace. She looked up in such a way Milo knew she meant they would climb it, and he gulped at the height, much taller than any Stone Giant he had ever climbed.  
  
The linguist clenched a fist and spoke to himself. "Okay, Milo, this is it. Just do it."  
  
His wife began to climb as he paced toward her, his heart beating powerfully. Milo took hold of the vines and found his first foothold. So he began to climb, looking down to nervously watch each step. He looked up to see his wife smiling back at him, urging him to go further. The climb was difficult and slow, especially carrying his staff. When Milo neared the top, Kida stood there, offering a hand that he eagerly took, injured palm to injured palm. Gritting his teeth he pulled himself up and was awestruck with the sheer altitude. Glancing skyward, the Heart of Atlantis seemed frightfully near. As he stood beside her, the queen once again reclaimed his cut hand and held it with her right, and he interlocked his fingers with hers. Kida sprinkled the drying extra crystals at their feet, the stone now glittering. In the wind Kida indicated for Milo to raise his staff. He blinked, wondering, but did so.  
  
A pure blue beam from the Mother Crystal fell on him, the crystals in his staff drawn to it. Once again Milo saw his crystal float before him as a roar of excitement went through the crowds below. After a few seconds, the queen did the same, and thus two beams fell on two hearts.  
  
The beams narrowed and flashed but nothing seemed to happen. His hand was pulsing uncomfortably now, and he felt it necessary to move it slightly, only to find he was unable to without moving Kida's as well. Milo looked down quickly in disbelief, finding an even melding between fair skin and bronzed. Suddenly he realized the pulse in his hand did not match his heartbeat. The man looked to his wife, who was looking up from it as well, an elated smile on her face as she continued to hold up her staff.  
  
The beams narrowed a second time and a sharp sensation went through him, and he felt an extremely uncomfortable feeling in his chest as nothing moved within for but a second or so. It was then the pulsing in his hand seemed normal and matched his own. It was thus royal blood flowed through him and his heart beat in harmony with hers, true king and queen hovering an inch above the ground.  
  
With one last flash their skin was freed, the crystal powder blowing off their hands in the breeze. A brilliant explosion of sparks shone from the Mother Crystal, harmlessly showering down upon the city. As claps, shouts, whistles and stamps echoed through the air, one turned to the other in the cerulean beam. The king and queen put their free arms around each other, feet once again on stone.  
  
"Do you remember what you said to me shortly after we were married, Milo? You were right in saying it was all still a wonderful dream."  
  
"Yeah. A dream come true." The king bent closer to her and they kissed, a feeling of relief flowing as soothing as water over them. The dried solution at their feet was finally caught by the wind, and, influenced by the crystal's beam still shining on them, swirled and glittered around them in the breeze.  
  
The peace of their love could be felt over the entire palace. The winds heightened and spread it throughout the "hill" of Atlantis and to its coast. It surged outward to the final rings. The feeling powered itself further on the thermals from the lava moat and steam from the falls, spreading to the mouths of caves. It thus echoed through the earth.  
  
It did not matter how far beneath the planet's surface Milo was. He was on top of the world. He could touch the sky.  
  
In a world were peace was restored, in a world were longevity was once again granted to all, in a world where love proved to be the cure, there was Atlantis.  
  
TEAM ATLANTIS: SHARDS OF CHAOS  
  
  
  
  
  
Credits: Meant to be read to "Where My Heart May Take Me" from Star Trek "Enterprise." (Such a Milo-type song!)  
  
Starting my little obsession:  
  
Walt Disney & Everyone Involved in Making the Movie Including: Don Hahn Gary Trousdale Kirk Wise Michael J. Fox Cree Summer James Newton Howard To Name a Few  
  
Special Thanks to Those Who Took Part in the Experiment (Even Just by Reading): Kathleen Goblinqueeen Malkavien Samgirl Cherukim Julie (Did I leave anyone out?)  
  
Encouragers/Plot Hole Searchers (to name a few again) Goblinqueeen Kathleen Samgirl Malkavien  
  
My Help in Editing (Thank you!) Goblinqueeen Shahnahkehm  
  
  
  
Fellow Fans (To name a few, and in no particular order:) From the Search for Atlantis RPG and the Destination Atlantis Forum: Lisa Mahteim Mu Shahnahkehm Karen Julie Sarah Jodotha Cali Goblinqueeen Princesszeldabelle Mollydove Dawn Roaming_Tigress Bitsy Lieutenant Starlite Vegakeep Malkavien Bubble_gum_grl Jarofpaintbrushes Meg_Servo Sáhtibakósh/Jinjue DareDelvil Cacomixl Fuse Syren Roaklin Kat isolde_scheurer jozedxyqk Samgirl Kathleen  
  
  
  
Those Who Introduced Me to Fan Fiction:  
  
Everyone in the Atlantis_the_Movie Yahoo! Group Including, but not exclusive to: Zudomon Grim=20Stripper Kida Grath Raymond Chuang Ruggaphile Dibsdib Freakhybrid The Snow Grygon Jjvo  
  
Lisa  
  
Karen  
  
Julie  
  
"Fuzz" breaks: "Smokey" Charcoal Briquette (Smokey) the Hamster  
  
  
  
Fun with Margin Doodles (Cooler "Put-This-Here" Arrows): Amanda and Kim  
  
Group Allowing You to Read This Right Now: Fanfiction.net  
  
Base Story Inspiration/Khobdesheh Character Development: Brave New World by Aldous Huxely 1984 by George Orwell And especially Anthem by Ayn Rand  
  
Movie Inspiration: Final Fantasy: the Spirits Within Stewart Little (1 & 2) The Lion King Lord of the Rings Treasure Planet The Frighteners  
  
Music Inspiration: Dinosaur ("Inner Sanctum/The Nesting Grounds") The Lion King ("King of Pride Rock") Atlantis: the Lost Empire ("Atlantis") Waterworld ("Swimming," "Dry Land") Tapestry of Dreams Soundtrack, a WDW parade The Lion King on Broadway ("Shadowland")  
  
Music influence (Chapter Writing Aids/Enhancers):  
  
Dinosaur ("They're All Gone") Waterworld ("Helen saves the Mariner") Treasure Planet ("Jim Saves the Crew") The Lion King: Rhythms of the Pridelands ("It's Time") Enterprise ("Where My Heart May Take Me")  
  
Further Inspiration: God The Movie and All Those Involved James Newton Howard, Whose Music Made Me a Fan Whatever that place is where my mind wanders to and doesn't come back  
  
  
  
And of course, the ultimate inspiration source? Atlantis: the Lost Empire, or else this fan fiction would be about something else!  
  
Well, I notice you're still reading. I hope you enjoyed my story! Sorry fot the little roller-coaster there. PAH-geh-sheh-nekh  
  
  
  
  
  
Based off the Disney Picture "Atlantis: the Lost Empire." The Name "Shards of Chaos" is property of Disney. The characters, "MUH-suh MIH-kee" and Khohbdesheh are my property, and I acknowledge I do not own the names. Fan fiction storyline also my property. Milo Thatch, Kidagakash, Bendoh, Rourke and other characters, names, concepts, and all Atlantean in this story are property of the Walt Disney Company. 


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